


Walker of Time

by Ayyarin



Category: Samurai Warriors (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-11-15 09:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 117,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayyarin/pseuds/Ayyarin
Summary: Annie is a young researcher who is swept away from her modern day life into the Sengoku period. There, she decides to use her knowledge of that time period to guide Mitsuhide through his life that will come to pass, giving him the advantage in the events to come. However, can she guide him towards the tragic death that waits for him at the end when realises that she loves him?(KEY NOTE: KNOWLEDGE OF THE GAME IS NOT REQUIRED IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND THE STORY)





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Mitsuhide dashed on ahead of the servant that was supposed to escort him, heading for the place he enjoyed sitting.

“Mitsuhide-sama! Please wait!” His servant called behind him. Mitsuhide turned his head behind him slightly with a one-sided smirk.

“You can catch up in a moment, Yuko. I am only going to the cliff edge at the lake!” He called over his shoulder.

His servant called again but he ignored her this time. He enjoyed having his own servants as they did everything for him, but they were also a bother, never leaving him alone. Even when he told them to leave him alone so he could play with his friends, they would still hover close by. It angered him but he was also grudgingly aware of how the servants ultimately served mother, father and uncles. They ordered the servants to keep an eye on him, and so they would, even if it irritated Mitsuhide.

He arrived at the small cliff-face that was surrounded by some trees and thick bushes blooming spring flowers. With a breath of content, he sat at the edge with his legs dangling over the side and he gazed down at the still lake below. The waters were clear and dark teal like liquid jade. It was a very pretty, small lake and sometimes youngsters came here to play games in the water or learn how to swim.

Mitsuhide scowled, wondering when he would learn. He knew some basics, but it was not enough. He was already nine years of age.

Something, a shadow, twisted in the depths of the waters and Mitsuhide’s sharp eyes narrowed. Was that a human shadow in the water?

“Mitsuhide-sama!” His servant’s call was much closer this time and he turned to look behind him. A great cracking sound vibrated through the air and the rock he sat on shook violently. His eyes widened at the same time he heard his servant’s scream of shock. Before he could react, the rock he sat on crumbled and he fell with it into the cold, dark waters of the lake.

Mitsuhide gasped. It was the biggest mistake as instead of air, he sucked in a lungful of water. It felt like his chest exploded in agony and a violent fit of coughing clutched his respiratory system in a desperate attempt to expel the water and breathe in more air. Except there was no air.

The rocks battered his body while he coughed and desperately tried to control it. It took every fibre of his being to stop the fits of choking but as a result, it felt like his lungs were being ripped apart. He wanted to scream. It was then when he also realised how his left foot throbbed in agony. He tried to move away in a direction, any direction, but his foot was stuck. Trapped beneath the rocks.

Panic erupted in his frantically beating heart.

_I am going to drown!_ He realised in terror.

Mitsuhide glanced about him frantically, pulling on his foot and trying to push the boulder. Despite his Oni blood that heightened all of his senses and strengthened his body, he could not move the boulder trapping his foot.

Dread and devastation flitted through his young mind. Was he going to drown a pathetic death like this? He had not even become a man yet!

Mitsuhide squeezed his eyes shut. What was he supposed to do? He could not die now!

Movement in the water forced him to open his eyes and he looked to his side. His struggling stopped as he stared at another figure in the water. It was a young woman, a slender woman that uncurled herself from the shadows of the water. She was the shadow he saw just a moment ago.

A spirit of the water. Or an enemy spy? Did it matter? Desperation screamed in Mitsuhide’s mind when she swam up, not seeing him. He reached out and grabbed her foot. His conscious was slipping through his fingers.

_Save me!_

She looked down and he saw her eyes. There were mixed emotions within her gaze that flashed through those brown eyes in an instant: fear, anger, confusion and desperation. Was a spirit supposed to feel those kinds of emotions within the water that was her domain? They were replaced by shock and determination.

Mitushide knew, he knew that she would save his life.

* * * * *

I stepped off the plane, feeling the sticky humid air hit me like a wave. Despite the amount of times I had travelled across the Far East, I could not get used to this cloying heat and humidity. I would have thought that being half Chinese would have made me more used to this kind of heat but alas, there were no advantages as such considering I was raised in chilly and windy Britain.

Propping my rucksack higher on my shoulders, I made my way through immigration which was a daunting process. The Japanese, like most Asians, did not have a friendly expression when stamping my passport. It had been much harder than I was expecting to be able to get two months to stay in Japan for my research.

Once past immigration, I plopped my hat back on my head and went to collect my suitcase, looking all around me to get my bearings. Signs were either in Japanese and English, or just Japanese, which was difficult as I still could not read the language; however, I could read Chinese which helped me out, seeing as much of Japan’s written language came from Chinese.

I was half Chinese half English, a curious mix as some said, but a good mix. It certainly gave me many advantages when it came to travelling through east Asia. I could speak both Japanese and Chinese.

Suitcase collected, I met up with my guide at arrivals.

“Welcome to Japan, Annie-san,” she greeted me warmly.

“Thank you, Yuki-san,” I replied with a sheepish grin. “It’s so hot!”

Yuki chuckled as she led me out of Kyoto’s airport. “This is only spring. You should experience the summer. Ah, but you will be here for some of that anyway.”

My expression fell. “I think I know what that will feel like. I was in Hong Kong and Thailand last year with my family during August. I passed out three times because of the heat! And I ended up in hospital on the third.”

Yuki winced in sympathy. “That must have been dreadful.”

I nodded and we talked a bit about the weather while she helped me lift my suitcase into the trunk of her car.

“Why is it that every time I meet a person from the UK, they all talk about the weather?” Yuki mused, turning the ignition of the car.

I snorted. “It’s a British thing. The weather in the UK is very unpredictable and generally all over the place. Rainy, sunny, cloudy, windy and damp, and most of the time, it is all of those together. It is always a huge topic of conversation for us. Our seasons are never fixed. The calendar is only there to tell us when it’s Christmas, New Year, and when the clocks go backwards or forwards.”

She chuckled and then changed the topic. “Today and tomorrow I will let you settle in and unpack, in addition to getting rid of any jet-lag that you may have. Then we will go to Honno-ji and you can start your research.”

I felt my insides bubble with excitement and my expression melted as it would normally do when presented with food.

“It makes me feel so pleased to see one as young as yourself take such an interest in our history,” Yuki said gently. “You are an eighteen year old girl and yet you behave much more maturely than your age suggests.”

I smiled. “I’ve always had this incredible interest with Akechi Mitsuhide ever since I played the game that introduced me to the Sengoku period.”

Yuki giggled. “Don’t tell me, Samurai Warriors one, two and three?”

I nodded.

She sighed. “When I got your call, I was going to say no as there are many people out there who start getting interested because of a game or an anime and that interest usually dies fairly quickly. There was nothing special. But when you emailed me all the work you had already managed to gather for your novel on Mitushide’s life, I had to admit, I was extremely impressed. So young and yet so much progress and work with what you had available in the UK.”

“Which was not much,” I added.

“I’m glad I and my agency agreed to your request. You have already done so much work and got the basics of his life, culture, myths and legends and timeline. All we need to do is fill in the gaps and you can then thread the rest together yourself.”

My smile grew wider and I struggled to keep my excitement from showing. I was really in Japan, in Kyoto and this was my chance to learn everything I could for my novel. My heart thumped a touch faster as I thought of Akechi Mitsuhide. It was my opportunity to find out more about his life than I could have ever hoped. The Sengoku period was so incredibly interesting. It made me adore Japan, yet I hated it at the same time. Again, it was to do with history, the World Wars to be exact, between Japan and China. Anyone who had read up on _that_ bit of history could understand perfectly well why so many despised the Japanese.

It was all on the past now though, and there was no use dwelling on the past that would bring nothing but misery.

The houses and buildings passed by and we arrived at a small flat I would be temporarily renting. She showed me around the area, which was a nice little place, showing me where the shops were, bus stops and so on. Yuki then bid me good day and left me to my unpacking.

I could not stop smiling as I unpacked. In my heart was a really good feeling about this.

* * * * *

On the morning of my visit to Honno-ji, I stood in front of my mirror, combing my long black hair back into a high pony-tail. I wore denim three-quarters and a grey T-Shirt. Simple. I had never been one for appearances, rarely wearing make-up or dressing to try and get attention. Besides, I was underdeveloped in some cases, with disappointingly small breasts. However, it did not bother me as much as some people would have expected. I was slim and looked tidy and presentable – that was all that mattered.

I also noted that I was rather tall compared to the other Japanese girls and women, standing at five foot six inches. It was a normal height in the west, but here in the east it was fairly tall. It was something I noticed every time I was in China.

I put my hat on, slung my bag over my shoulder and met up with Yuki outside.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded enthusiastically, pumping my fist in the air. “Hell yeah!” I exclaimed. “Let’s go, go, go!”

With a chuckle, she drove us to Honno-ji. There were many tourists, most of which were Japanese. The air buzzed with the murmur of chatter and groups were crowded around dashboards of information about the temple and its history. There were families, school children and general other people. Some of them stared at me which made me uncomfortable but I ignored it. It was not often they would see a foreigner considering as Japan’s boarder was so tight and secure.

We walked through the temple and around its grounds. The day seemed like it dragged and yet it felt like it was going so fast at the same time. I read everything I could, took down notes, spoke to the priests who were happy to tell me of the Incident at Honno-ji and then at five in the afternoon, Yuki and I sat down on a bench, breathing a great sigh.

“Wow, that was a lot to take in for one day,” I breathed.

“You’ve written down a lot of notes,” Yuki noted as I flipped through my notebook and reshuffled my papers. “I will go and get us some drinks. I will be back in five minutes.”

“Okay.”

I watched her leave and then turned back down to my notes. Already I had a ton of information that was never on the internet or in the libraries. I felt giddy as aspects of the story I had planned were coming together even more. What I wanted to write was not exactly a biography of Akechi Mitsuhide’s life because it was a fictional peace that I had planned, one involving Tengus and Kitsunes and similar creatures. Demons, or _Yokai_ and_ Oni _in Japanese.

Oh how I adored mythology in any nation, particularly Chinese, Celtic or Egyptian, including Japanese.

An unexpected gust of wind blasted me from the front and I let out a small cry of surprise. Some of my papers were lifted into the air and my chest constricted in horror. The wind took them behind me and into the trees.

“Damn it!” I cursed. “My notes!” I stood abruptly, mortified. My notes meant everything to me!

I chased them into the trees, listening to the leaves rustle and whisper in the wind. I swore I heard the sound of wings, huge wings, but I was more worried about my notes. Through the trees I ran, until finally my scattered papers fluttered to the ground.

My heart pounded hard in my chest as I sank to my knees with an exhausted and relieved sigh, picking the papers up.

“Damn it,” I panted. “That was too close.”

With the papers collected, I scanned through them to make sure I was not missing any and then put them away in my bag so the wind could not take them away again. I was surprised at how lucky I was to find all of the notes. Luck was on my side today it seemed.

When I stood up, I took a look at my surroundings for the first time. I paused, feeling my skin chill.

This was not some group of trees like it was before. This was a forest. There was no wind, unlike the sudden gust earlier and it was surprisingly dark. The air was filled with rich birdsong and cicadas. Why could I not hear the sounds of the cars or the remaining tourists? I spun around myself. I could not even see the temple.

“What the hell?” I murmured, frowning and feeling incredibly wary. Where was this place? How far did I wander? Was there a forest like this around the temple to begin with?

A warm light drew my attention. It was through the towering trees. I stood where I was at first, gazing in the direction of the light with a dubious expression. Should I go towards it? This was still around Honno-ji, right? The light would mean a building and therefore people. I could make my way back to the bench.

_And quickly too. Yuki is probably back with the drinks now. She will be worried._

With that in mind, I set off towards the light, leaping nimbly over the incredible roots of the trees and weaving in between the huge trunks that stood the canopy of leaves above. I moved around the trees and exhaled as I came across the light.

I stopped where I was abruptly and stared in disbelief. In front of me was a small lake, or a very large pond, depending on one’s perspective. The water was still and clear, dark with depth. Standing on the other side of the small lake was a young girl dressed in an elaborate and heavy kimono, fit for those in court. Her hair was long and white. Fluffy fox ears jutted from the sides of her head and behind her swished a thick and bushy fox tail. Her eyes were orange. The light came from a flickering flame that bobbed beside her. I gaped.

Was . . . was she a Kitsune? But this was the modern twenty first century! These creatures existed in legend and myth but not in real life. And yet, I was staring right at one.

The sound of a great beat of wings drew my attention up for a moment.

“At last. You are finally here, Aki.” The voice belonged to a man who stood on a high branch. His hair was long, loose and black, like his yukata, but embroidered in gold. Yellow eyes stared down at me and I felt the blood drain from my face. There were wings on this man’s back, huge, black feathery wings.

A Tengu? My breath caught in my throat. He was talking to me. There was no one else here.

“Who . . . who are you? My name isn’t . . . Aki . . .”

_Aki . . ._ The name echoed in my memory. I was called that in my dreams at one point. . .

My feet felt wet and I glanced down. I sucked in a strangled breath. The water from the lake had a mind of its own, like it was possessed. It rose up from the shoreline and around my feet, rising higher. I took a step back. Pale, clawed hands flashed out of the water, gripping my ankles. Half of the owner’s face rose from the water. It was another man, a man with long white hair and pale eyes. His pupils were narrowed into the slits of a snake.

They were all _Demons_.

I opened my mouth to scream. Cold water filled my mouth and nose. The snake-like man had pulled me into the lake and the water engulfed me like a dark cape of crushing darkness. I kicked and thrashed against the pale hands which dragged me down into the deep, desperately trying to control and beat back down the panic that was quickly rising in my blood. I had always been a very good swimmer, able to hold my breath for minutes on end, but the weight of the water was crushing and pressed agonisingly against my eardrums. My nose and throat burned. I could not see. Was I going to drown? What had I done? What had I done to deserve the wrath of these mythical creatures? What the heck was going on?!

_: Do not fight us, Aki._

My limbs stiffened at the cold hiss in my mind.

_: We are your allies. Save the Oni prince and guide him, Jikan no Shojo._

The hands that had a hold of my legs let go and I blinked, suddenly so confused. Why let go if they were trying to drown me? This had to be a dream, a bad dream. But if it was a dream then I would be able to breathe the water – which I clearly could not at the present time.

Desperate ad confused, I turned my head up towards the direction I thought was the surface. It was then when I realised that I could see. The water was not as deep as it once was and to my amazement, my vision was surprisingly clear for underwater sight.

_That doesn’t matter. Get up to the surface! _I shrieked mentally, kicking for the surface, shaking with panicked confusion. I meet a Tengu, Kitsune and a snake Demon, and then get dragged into a lake. I wanted nothing more than to get back to Yuki and apologise to her for making her wait and no doubt worry. This was a hallucination, caused by my stupid excitement at learning about the past.

Something caught my foot and strangled panic and frustration clawed through my chest. _What now? I need air!_

The hand which grabbed my foot slipped away and I frowned, looking down. My eyes landed on a boy, a boy who appeared to be stuck, his foot trapped under freshly fallen rocks. He was drowning.

My heart sank, unable to believe the day I was having. Unable to ignore him and overwhelmed by the desire to save him, I swam down. The snake Demon was nowhere to be seen, but my fear remained.

Forcing that fear away temporarily, I swam down to the boy’s level. I could not let a child die. Never.

I took a quick, blurred glance at the boulders weighing him down and then pushed against it with all my might. The boy pulled on his foot, but each pull was weaker than the last. My lungs burned like fire and my head swam with dizziness. I was also growing weaker. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing one last time with everything I had. The boulder shifted, and the boy’s foot came free. Triumph coursed through my blood.

The boy kicked for the surface, but he did not get anywhere as his movements slowed. He could not swim. I wrapped one arm around him and swam us both up to the surface. We broke through the water, spraying the droplets everywhere and I brought in a sharp gasp of air, replenishing my starved lungs and I sneezed an instant later from the water stinging my nose. The boy in my arm gasped, choked and coughed violently, water pouring from his mouth and nose as I took us both to shallow water.

“Mitsuhide-sama!” A shrill cry snapped my attention ahead. A woman in a simple but tidy kimono stood at the edge of the water, tears of fear and joy streaming down her cheeks. Her hairstyle was strange.

Around the water were more figures, mainly men that waded through the water, wearing clothes I had only seen in paintings. Katanas were tied to their belts and some others held Naginatas. I stared at them in numb shock. Was I really seeing this?

“Let go of Mitsuhide-sama! Do not touch him, you witch!” They roared when I was able to stand in the shallow water. The men ripped the boy from my arms and another shoved me back, pointing his Katana at my neck. I froze, my stunned brain slowly processing the tense and panicked situation.

The Japanese were not allowed to carry weapons in public, certainly not Katanas. Yet I had at least three blades pointed at me in hostility. I glanced around me. The scene around me was like something from a Japanese movie or anime depicting what it looked like in the olden days, except I could not see any buildings nearby just yet. There was a small cliff-face behind me, showing signs of a collapse. There was no forest around the small lake like there was when the snake-Demon dragged me into the water. This was a different lake.

Where was I? Why was everyone wearing such old-fashioned clothing and holding weapons? Why did they look on me with such hostility?

Slowly, I raised my hands in surrender and stood still where I was. The water dripped from my body. The sunlight suggested it was setting. Their air was surprisingly sweet and clean, with no traces of exhaust fumes from the cars and city that should be close by.

“Who are you? You will pay for trying to drown our young Lord!” The hostile men snarled. Others held their arms up to stop women from coming any closer. They looked on me in fear, as if I was some kind of monster.

My expression distorted into one of disbelief at the accusation. Could this day not get any worse?

“Trying to drown him?” I repeated in dismay. “I saved his life!”

I assumed they were referring to the little boy I saved. He sat on the floor beside the woman with the tidy kimono, coughing and bringing in staggered breaths. His face was pale but the colour was slowly coming back. I felt mild relief and pride at having saved someone’s life for the first time in my own life. Becoming a doctor was the path I would have chosen had I not gone for writing.

My pride and relief was short-lived as one of the blades pressed against my neck, breaking the skin and a bead of blood trickled down my skin.

“Do not lie!” The man shouted. “You are a spirit of the lake who tried to kill our young Lord!”

I almost laughed, feeling hysterical. I was a human! Like them! I opened my mouth to argue when I stopped myself and looked between me and those around me. Our clothing was different, I could swim very well, I looked like a foreigner to some extent and I was taller than average, standing at the same height as many of the men.

If this was some ancient time, then I could understand what they meant. But this was the twenty first century. No one believed in spirits and such anymore . . .

However, I saw those three beings of myth. These people called that little boy their ‘young Lord’. There were no ‘Lords’ in this day and age. But _was_ it this day and age? Their clothing, their superstition, weapons, way of speaking –

I felt my face pale and my eyes landed on the boy. He certainly looked nobler than the rest of the people around him. He looked back at me with a mixed expression. What did they call him?

“What is your name?” I whispered.

One of the men snarled and drew his Katana back. “Insolence! To talk to him directly –!”

“Wait!” The little boy yelled, standing abruptly. His voice was hoarse and he staggered from standing too quickly. The woman beside him caught his shoulder.

“Mitsu –!” She began when the boy held up his hand.

“This woman saved my life,” he croaked. “My name is Akechi. Akechi Mitushide.”

My hands, which were raised, were lowered to my sides and I stared at him. My legs felt weak.

Akechi Mitsuhide. This little boy was the samurai who I was completely fascinated with? Nobunaga’s retainer who betrayed his lord and burnt Honno-ji to the ground? The Thirteen Day Shogun?

This little boy was _him_? But . . . but that meant I was in the fifteen hundreds of Sengoku Japan, that I was in the _past_.

I took a step back, feeling the horror rise in my heart as my eyes blurred with tears and the onset of a vicious faint. My hearing was becoming muffled.

“You’re lying . . . you’re, lying . . .”

I watched their expressions change and their lips moved. However, I did not hear them, and then I did not see them. My overwhelmed conscious sank into the dark Abyss of unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Mitsukuni stood by the closed screen that was partially parted so he could glance in. His young son sat inside, curiously watching the sleeping woman who had supposedly saved his life.

Mitsukuni frowned and he replayed everything in his memory again. There had been a huge commotion down in the town and it was not until Mitsuhide returned when everything was explained. The near death experience alone was enough to mildly shock Mitsukuni and his wife, but what shocked them both more was the unconscious woman Mitsuhide had brought with him. She did not look of this world, wearing strange clothing and she did not look like one of this land’s bloodline. She looked like a mix of the western foreigners and them. A half-breed? It certainly made her look unique.

The people of the town were wary of her, whispering that she was a spirit of the lake – a Demon, a witch.

Mitsukuni smirked wryly. The people of Mino were not even aware that their Lords and Ladies were of Demon blood – Oni. If they knew that then they would not be so hostile against this woman as they would have more things to worry about, such as would their Lords and Ladies eat them, for example. Mitsukuni’s smirk grew wider at the thought. They did not eat people. They were no different to everyone else. The only difference in diet was that they occasionally needed blood to sate a growing thirst, and this blood could be taken from animals – carnivorous animals preferably. But it did not beat the sweetness of human blood.

Anyhow, according to Mitsuhide, he had been trapped by fallen rocks and was drowning, until a woman came out from the shadows of the water and freed him. In effect, she saved him from a watery grave.

Mitsukuni did not doubt his son’s story. There was truth in his eyes. And like his son, he was impatient for this woman to wake after she collapsed. Where did she come from? He knew for a fact that there were no such spirits in the lake, and he knew many Demons who were enemies or friends. But he had never seen this one before.

He would have to wait until she woke. And when she did, there was much to talk about.

* * * * *

My sleep was dark, empty. There were no dreams, to my huge disappointment. However, there was . . . something. A girl’s voice in the darkness. Her voice was a flickering flame that floated in the blackness, my beacon of light.

_: Wake up, Aki . . ._

A followed the light, followed her voice. The flame turned around. The head of the Kitsune stared back at me.

I woke up sharply, jolted awake by alarm. My heart pounding hard, my body was tense from the shock. I relaxed however after minutes of lying as still as I could. Exhaling through my nose. The smells were all wrong in the room, until I remembered I was in the rental flat. It was just a dream. A very disturbing dream.

I shifted and frowned. _Why am I lying on my front? I never lie on my front,_ I thought. _And definitely not with my hands behind my back. Damn it, it’s so uncomfortable._

I brought my hands around to my front and rolled onto my side. The rolling onto my side I managed, but not the other. I froze. My hands were tied behind my back.

Panic flared immediately. Did someone break into my flat? I was in bed. _Oh God. Was I raped?_ But there was no pain between my groins or anywhere for that matter.

Abruptly, I sat up, flinging the quilt away from me with the motion. It was then when I realised. Gagged, bound, dressed in a simple white yukata. The room I was in was matted by a tatami floor and the screens were closed all around the edge. Incense burned somewhere as its scent perfumed the air.

This was _nothing_ like my flat.

One of the screens opened and a man with a kindly expression stepped in. He was dressed in a hakama and uwangi. His hair was tied back. My heart sank.

It had not been a dream.

“Ah, you are awake, Miss,” he exclaimed gently. “You slept all through the night.”

I stared at him, feeling tears sting my eyes and I hung my head in devastation. This was not a dream. It was very real. Indeed I was pulled into the lake by that snake-Demon. Indeed I saw the Tengu and Kitsune. Indeed I saved a boy from drowning.

_Akechi Mitsuhide._

“I was told to bring you to the Lords and Lady as soon as you were awake,” the kindly man said. “For that, I am going to unbind you. You look like a trustworthy person, therefore will you promise not to attempt to flee when I remove your bindings? It will be futile if you do. There are guards posted at every possible exit.”

I inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. Bound and guarded, a prisoner. If I really had been cast into a completely different time then was it better if I died? How could I possibly survive in an age of swords and old-fashioned culture and etiquette, with codes of honour and behaviour that were far harsher than the modern day?

It would be easy to get myself killed in these circumstances. Did I want that?

Not particularly, no. I was not an optimistic person but death was out of the question now that I was on a roll with creating my novel – which seemed to be on hold now that I was no longer in my own era. I felt so confused, so numb – and dumb! Perhaps while I was still numb I could take this opportunity to find out what was happening, before I had a mental and emotional breakdown.

I nodded my head once miserably and sat still as the man unbound my gag and the bind around my wrists. My mouth was dry, but I was far too frightened to ask for anything to drink. Instead, I rubbed my wrists in silence.

The man brought a large box around and pushed it in front of me steadily. He opened it and a smooth garment lay inside.

“My name is Akito Kenji,” he said kindly. “Please put this haori on. It will provide you with some measure of privacy as we walk to the reception chamber.”

I reached forward. My hands were not shaking, to my dull surprise. I picked up the haori and let it fall from its folds. It was a simple garment of pale brown and very simple embroidery. No doubt it was a haori for someone beneath a noble status.

“Akito-san,” I murmured. The man’s face brightened, as well as stiffened with the surprise that I was talking. Surname had to come first, with the title. I was so thankful I knew that part of the etiquette well enough, considering it had not changed in five hundred years.

“What time of day is it?”

“Early morning. The Lords and Lady are ready to receive you.”

I glanced down, feeling the moisture drain from my mouth. Lords and Ladies in this day and age were no different to royalty in most respects. It felt like panic was going to strangle me. What was I going to do? Meeting them would probably be enough to seal my death warrant, and running away would result in exactly the same.

_Put the haori on first._

I did just that, sliding my arms through the sleeves and Kenji nodded approvingly. “Good,” he said. “Now come with me, please. Do not be afraid.”

I would have snorted in dry amusement, but I was not in any such mood for that. Therefore I stood. Kenji was barely an inch taller than me and he noticed this with mildly concealed shock.

“The rumours of your height were not exaggerated after all,” he chuckled. “Come along then.”

With a suppressed sigh, I followed him through the screens to the veranda along the edge of this part of the castle. I assumed it was a castle anyway. If I was to see the Akechi Lords together then this would have to be Akechi castle in Mino.

We stepped lightly and I managed to drag my gaze up from the wooden floor and to the gardens on my right. The sun was bright, the air was comfortable before the humidity of noon would set in. Birds sang, the trees whispered, the cicadas chirped and voices came to me on the faint breeze. There were people in the garden. They were far in the distance but they paused what they were doing when they saw who walked behind Kenji. The light voices fell silent and the air chilled despite the warmth.

_Witch of the lake . . ._

My eyes met one particular pair as I looked back down at the wooden veranda. It took a split second before my brain registered those eyes as something familiar. I glanced back up at the boy whose gaze I met, to find he was not there. Gone, like a fleeting shadow.

I looked back down and continued to follow Kenji. With each step my heart began to beat faster and louder in nervousness and fear. My muscles tensed and my chest tightened. I was going to meet the Akechi Lords. Real figures in history whom I had struggled to study. Descendants of the legendary Minamoto who fought the mighty Taira across the sea, and won.

What the hell was I doing? I could not meet people like these! I was going to get myself killed.

Kenji moved back into the castle, through more screens, and then finally knelt down in front of one. Struggling to keep myself from passing out in anticipation, I knelt down beside him, hands in front and lowered my head. There was a whispered exchange and the screen slid open.

_Pretend it is all a dream . . . _my tiny mental voice whispered.

“My Lords, my Lady,” Kenji murmured politely in greeting. Sudden panic exploded in my mind. How was I supposed to address them individually? They all had the same family name. I could not address them all as ‘Akechi-sama’, otherwise I would get confused as to _which_ Akechi-sama I would be addressing. Using their given names was not even thinkable.

“Ah! Finally. Come through,” a male voice said, sounding impatient. I bit on my lower lip to stop it from trembling in fear.

Kenji raised his head and glanced at me. I stared at him. He nudged his head forward slightly. My eyes widened. What was he saying? That I was supposed to get up and sit with them _alone_?

His eyes moved again and before I could think logically, I stood, too afraid of the Lords’ impatience. I stood, not looking up once, keeping a lowered posture and then knelt down again, feet tucked beneath me and bowed my head to the tatami matting.

I could not hear anything save for my frantic heartbeat. My eyes were squeezed shut, expecting the excruciating but brief pain of a sword slicing through my neck.

However, that did not come. Did I not crap up then? Had I followed the etiquette well enough to keep my neck?

The screen was slid shut behind me, leaving me alone with very powerful people of a status far higher than my own. To them, I would be nothing but a peasant.

“Sit up, woman.”

I obeyed the command and sat up straight, glancing up at the people who sat in front of me. There were five of them.

Two men sat on their left, their expressions composed yet curious. A third man sat in the middle, no doubt the overall Lord of the castle and therefore the family. He carried an air of respect and loyalty that made my eyes widen. He was more handsome than his brothers and wore a broad smile. Beside him to his right was a beautiful woman dressed in such a breath-taking kimono. Her expression was cold and unreadable. And then on her right was a boy who looked a mix between the woman and the grinning man. Now this boy I recognised immediately of course. Not because it was his eyes I saw in the garden a moment ago, but because he was the boy I saved from the lake.

Dressed and tidy, demonstrating their ranking and power, the five of them were a sight to behold. I quickly looked back down.

_Am I sure this isn’t a dream?_

“So, you are the one who saved my son,” Mitsukuni mused. I knew his name. I knew all of their names, except for the mother. I could not find any record of her name in my research and had hoped to discover that while doing my research.

I was too scared to reply. Would I be considered arrogant if I said yes? Was the question a trick and yes was the answer they needed to throw me in a prison cell or execute me?

Mitsukuni sighed and to my startled shock, a fan slid under my chin and pulled it up, forcing me to look ahead. The Lord held the fan, looking somewhat disappointed.

“Are we that frightening? The people of Mino would beg to differ,” he said.

I blinked. His behaviour was not what I was expecting from a Lord during the Sengoku period. He was more like the characters in the game, or in the mangas where someone got thrown into the past. Everything always seemed nicer in those settings than what it was actually depicted as in films which followed the facts more accurately.

“Mitsukuni-sama,” his wife chided. “That is not proper behaviour.”

Mitsukuni shrugged her chide off but sat back nonetheless. This time, I did not look back down at my lap in case he did the same thing again. I just kept my eyes low, ready to look up in case, even though inside I wanted nothing more than to just vanish into a black place of darkness and shadow, where no one could see me. Or just to sink through the floor.

One of the other men grunted. “Let me get straight to the point before Mitsukuni-sama sends us off track.”

Mitsukuni frowned. “Is that how you speak to your Lord?”

“No, forgive me, Mitsukuni-sama,” Mitsuyasu said in a monotone.

“Woman,” Mitsuhisa, the third brother said. “It is said that you appeared out of the depths of the lake that lie on the outskirts of this town, and saved our young successor, Akechi Mitsuhide, from drowning. You were in strange clothing and do not look like someone of this land. The people of this town say you are a Witch of the lake, a Demon. Is that true?”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. What would his expression be like? Scornful? Mocking? Amused? Because his voice certainly did not show it. But I would not have been surprised. What he said sounded silly. How could anyone simply appear out of nowhere? Did such creatures exist in the real world? I had often wished they did but the nightmares made me think again.

Glancing up, I noted with surprise that his expression was passive and non-judgemental. He was not mocking me. Did . . . did that mean that I had a chance? Did that mean they may believe me?

I gulped.

“No, my Lord,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I am an ordinary human.”

Mitsukuni raised an eyebrow. “A human, yes, but an ordinary one, no.”

I did not respond.

Mitsuyasu suddenly stood. “Stand up, woman.”

I stared up at him with wide eyes. Stand before the others stood? Stand right in front of them?

“Must I repeat myself?” Mitsuyasu said with growing impatience. I quickly looked down and shut my eyes briefly, taking in a shuddering breath. Hopefully, the death would be quick.

I stood – and noticed why they wanted me to. The men were _normal_ height. And when I say normal, I meant that they were the same height as the men from the twenty first century, standing at near six feet. Stunned, I looked Mitsuyasu up and down, unable to stop myself. How could he – they – be so tall for this era?

The Lady hummed thoughtfully. “She is certainly tall for a woman when out in the public.”

“But amongst us, her height is normal,” Mitsuhisa noted.

“You may sit again.”

I obeyed, burning to ask what they meant. I swallowed the questions, feeling them sink like stones to my stomach.

“There is the possibility that you may be a spy,” Mitsukuni said. “Do you deny that claim?”

A spy?! That would get me killed for sure. “No, my Lord,” I answered almost immediately.

“Do you have any proof? What clan are you from? Who sent you here? My son tells me you saved him but what if you were the one who caused the cliff to collapse? It would have been an excellent strategy. Cause the collapse to drown my son and then rescue him, earning our trust, gaining information on us and then forwarding that onto your masters.”

My lips parted in dismay. It would make sense. But to accuse me of such a crime was outrageous!

“I would never do such a thing!” I exclaimed angrily. “I have no proof, but neither do you. You cannot accuse me of attempted murder without proof for that alone can be considered a crime.”

They all stared at me and I realised my error with horror. I had spoken out of place in anger without meaning to. I had spoken out of line in such a manner against these Akechi Lords and Lady. My heart galloped in my chest. I had basically just signed my death warrant. Would apologising make it better?

_Of course it wouldn’t! _I cried internally. I bowed immediately.

Mitsukuni chuckled, catching me by surprise and I snuck a glance up at him. He grinned. “I like this woman,” he said. “There is fire and a fighting spirit in your heart, very different from the water you are supposed to be orientated with.”

I blinked in disbelief. “Akechi-sama is not going to execute me for the way I spoke?”

“Why would I? I trust my son’s words. He may be young but he is intelligent and sharp.”

_So it had been a test?_ I thought in dismay.

“However, it does not explain why you were in the lake,” Mitsuhisa pointed out. “Nor does it explain why your features are so unique, why you are so tall and why your clothing is so unusual. It is of material we have never seen before which can be sold for a fortune. Anyone would suspect that you are not of this world and have risen from the Demon world.”

I frowned. “I am not a supernatural being.”

“If you are not a being of the lake, then how did you appear within it?” Mitsuhide asked, finally speaking. Everyone, including me, looked to him. His gaze was strong for a young boy. If he was like his father and uncles, then that meant he would match the growth and years with the boys of my era. That would put him at either eight or nine years old. He certainly could not be any younger or older because of one small fact.

Mitsukuni was still alive. I knew for a fact that he died in 1538. So that meant this year should be either 1536 or 1537.

Mitsuhide held my gaze and in the end, I looked away, lost within the memories and dreams that had somehow merged together as one. Should I tell them of where I came from? Of how I jumped through time?

I cast a quick and solemn gaze around them, judging what their responses would be from their current expressions. Would they laugh and sneer at such an impossible story? I could not think up of anything else to say.

I opened my mouth and slowly, tentatively, quietly, I began to explain how I ended up saving Mitsuhide’s life. My story flowed from my lips.

* * * * *

At the end, the six of us sat in silence. The sound of nothing beat against my eardrums and I did not even think of looking at them to see their expressions, too humiliated, too embarrassed and confused. Such a story sounded ridiculous, a story of a time that had not come to pass yet for them, of Kitsunes and Tengus, time jumping –

It truly did sound absurd. Any moment I expected them to burst into roaring laughter. But despite how insane it sounded, it was the truth.

The room stayed silent. They did not laugh. I frowned in puzzlement.

“So you are from a time that is five hundred years in the future?” Lady Akechi questioned.

“Yes, my Lady,” I confirmed quietly.

“Hmm. Does that mean you can tell who wins what future battles?” Mitsuhisa asked with a chuckled. “Heh, you could even make one of us the Shogun.” The two younger brothers chortled away at the idea.

My eyes widened. I did not know the history _that_ well! I just knew some of the key dates and the battles, but aside from that, I knew next to nothing of went on in between the battles or why they started.

Mitsukuni elbowed them. “Ignore them,” he said. “We will not ask you to do that.” He then took a deep breath. “If what you say is true then that means that you are definitely not a spy and you owe allegiance to no clan yet. What is your name, woman?”

I did not answer straight away for some reason, but my heart held me back from saying _Annie_. In my dreams, I was called _Aki_. The Demons of this world called me _Aki_. It began with an ‘A’ which was close enough to my real name and it was Japanese enough to fit in with those around me.

“Aki . . . Just, Aki.”

“Aki . . . no family name?” Mitsuyasu asked.

I shook my head. _Williamson_, would be a mouthful to handle. I swallowed a sigh of sadness, feeling a longing in my heart for my family already. My family name would have to be left behind until I could find a way back to my time. I had to find a way back. There was always a way. One just had to look hard enough and long enough in the right places.

“Just out of curiosity, how old are you?” Mitsukuni then said curiously.

I glanced up at him dubiously. “Eighteen, my Lord.”

Their eyes widened. “Eighteen and unmarried?” Lady Akechi exclaimed softly.

I looked down. “Marrying early is frowned upon in my time for one is still considered a child at that age and therefore with a lack of responsibility. People do not usually get married until they are at least in their twenties.”

Their eyebrows rose, as if they could not believe what they were hearing. It was not a surprise. Girls and boys as young as fourteen got married in these times.

Mitsukuni shook his head. “That is unimportant. You have no family name therefore you – in effect – belong to no clan or even a province on this land. I offer you a place amongst my family to serve the Akechi, as payment for saving Mitsuhide’s life.” He looked at the people beside him. “Do any of you object to that?”

They shook their heads and I gaped. They were letting me live? They were letting me live _with_ them? Even as a servant. This was far better than I could have ever hoped for. I was expecting worse: being thrown in prison, a beggar on the streets, or worst case scenario – a prostitute in a brothel, which I would never agree to. I had my pride and dignity.

This act of kindness brought tears to my eyes and I had to blink to keep them at bay.

“However,” Mitsukuni added, making my heart sink. “As you are from a different time, you must therefore be lacking in etiquette to be a servant or maid in my castle.”

My lips twitched in irony.

“Though you seem to know enough of the basics,” he continued. “No matter, as you saved my son, I wish for you to serve him directly. Become his bodyguard.”

My eyes flickered between Mitsuhide and Mitsukuni. Mitsuhide’s expression was unreadable, astonishing for one so young.

“I do not know how to fight though, Akechi-sama,” I said meekly.

“We will teach you,” he said with ease. “And you will teach my son to be as adapt in the water as you. Many Samurai meet unfortunate ends through natural disasters as well as by the sword. You will serve him directly above all, even above me – though I do come second,” he added sheepishly.

I blinked hard and lowered my head to hide my overwhelmed expression of relief and gratitude. Such an act of kindness was not what I had been expecting from this meeting at all. I bowed.

“Thank you,” I whispered, before turning to the young boy. “I swear that I will serve Akechi Mitsuhide until I die. I am yours to command and use.”

* * * * *

Instead of being told to get to work straight away, I was allowed the morning to settle in more appropriately. I was given a pleasant kimono to wear so I was dressed in a manner that made me fit in. They gave me something to eat and then Kenji showed me around the castle and its grounds, explaining things as he went along. No matter where I went, I was stared at for my unique face and height. Though here, height was not as much of an issue as the guards and soldiers were of adequate height. A good diet meant one grew better. Therefore of course the commoners and peasants would be shorter.

The day went by in the blink of an eye, yet it seemed to take a thousand years at the same time. The sun tracked its way across the sky before setting beneath the western horizon. I sat on the veranda with my mug of tea, feeling the air cool to a comfortable temperature and the air became stiller, tweeting with the last of the birdsong that diminished with the dying sunlight. Crickets chirped somewhere amongst the trees and the long grass.

The air was peaceful and I gazed up at the darkening sky, watching the stars come out. The last of the sunlight died completely, leaving the sky filled with glittering stars that was unlike anything I had ever seen back home, even in the countryside where I lived. The stars were so huge and numerous they overlapped each other like clouds of shimmering light, twinkling gently. It was so _clear_!

It was breath-taking. There was no light pollution here.

“You would love to see this sky, Dad,” I whispered in English, thinking of his passion for astronomy. Thinking of my father made me think of the rest of my family, and before I knew it, the tears were running down my cheeks. I sat alone, so I did not stop them as they fell freely.

The full scale of my situation finally hit me in an overwhelming tide of emotion. I was out of my time, in a foreign land with strange people. Everything I was used to did not exist. Everyone I loved and cared about had not even been born yet. I had been stolen from my time and cast into the past where I would have to adapt quickly or die.

I was truly alone.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I tried stretching in my new kimono which Yuko had to help me into. It was extremely plain, and for good reason as I would be wearing this while in the water.

Still, all these oriental types of clothing were very complicated to put on, especially when compared to a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Their socks were not comfortable at all and neither were the sandals. The servants of the manor had let me keep my original clothing, but it was impossible to wear that now. It was just too different and strange.

_Who would have thought that me, a girl of Chinese blood, would end up in Sengoku _Japan_? _I thought in irony. _My Chinese ancestors won’t be so happy; neither would my English, especially due to the events of the World Wars. Damn World Wars. At least I probably won’t be around when World War 3 hits my era – if I’m still here in the past._

Stepping outside into the courtyard, I tried to see how big a stride forward I could make before the hem of the kimono stopped my legs. I did not get very far.

“These are more restrictive than they look,” I muttered under my breath, trying to work out what I could do about it. I glanced up at the few servants and guards in the courtyard. The clothing which the guards wore looked much easier to wear. The hakama gave their legs plenty of room for movement.

My head rocked back and I closed my eyes against the sunlight, exhaling in defeat. “Women sure have it hard in these times, no matter which land they’re from it seems.”

“What do you mean?”

My eyelids flew open and I turned around. The young Mitsuhide stood behind me. It took me a moment realise that I was supposed to bow.

“G-good morning, Akechi-sama!” I stammered.

“Good morning, Aki-senpai,” he greeted in a surprisingly calm tone.

My eyes snapped up to him. “Senpai?” I repeated.

He titled his head to the side. “You are my senpai though, are you not?” He asked, walking ahead of me to the stables and I followed him, scratching the back of my head in awkwardness.

“I . . . I guess.” Never did I think I would be called ‘senpai’, especially by a young Lord. It felt incredibly strange, especially as Mitsuhide was far my senior in status – but not in age.

Mitsuhide . . .

It had been a couple of days now since I had woken up after arriving in the sixteenth century. The Akechi Lords were kind in allowing me to stay and even live in the castle. Yuko and Kenji had been spending the last few days helping me learn some of the etiquette that I was not familiar with, as well as teaching me how I should be addressing my superiors, and how to dress, in addition to what the plans for my near future were.

It was stressful, as there was no time for me to get used to all this on my own. I had to adapt quickly. Perhaps I could never get used to this and the fear in my heart would never go away. However, after my emotional breakdown a few nights ago, I certainly felt somewhat better. A good cry and river of tears did wonders sometimes.

“Where will be going?” Mitsuhide’s voice cut through my thoughts and I looked back up at him. “Up river?” A guard gave him a hand up onto his horse. I eyed the horse dubiously. Could such a young boy handle a creature like this? It was certainly an attractive mount. The horse – a male – was with grey hair and a black mane and tail.

“Not the river yet,” I said, moving out of the way of the horse. “Swimming in currents is hard enough for a skilled swimmer. I suggest a lake, Akechi-sama.”

He grinned. “Alright. How about the one where we first met?”

_Where we first met . . ._ No one had ever said words like that to me. I found myself blushing for some godforsaken reason because of it.

“If that is what Akechi-sama wishes,” I mumbled.

He led his horse out of the manor. A few guards accompanied us to act as his bodyguards, and Yuko also came with us with a few extra useful things: mainly food and towels. She was the maid that was with him on the day he almost drowned. At first, she had been incredibly wary of me, but very quickly, she seemed to have taken a liking to me instead. She saw me save his life.

I was thankful for her company. Yuko was a kind and generally happy woman, judging from what I had seen so far.

“I will be very relieved when Mitsuhide-sama can move in the water with the same skill as you, Aki-san,” she said gently.

_Aki-san_, I thought to myself, listening to the new name that I had now decided to call myself. Here in this time, I was Aki.

Annie Williamson was left behind in the twenty-first century.

I smiled at her, masking the sudden ache in my heart for home. “The younger that people learn, the better, as their skill will only ever grow.”

“When did you learn to swim?” Mitsuhide questioned curiously.

“At the age of four years, Akechi-sama,” I replied. I watched him raise his eyebrows as curiosity passed through his expression. Even though he was a young Lord, he was still a boy, which made me smile.

“Four?” He exclaimed. “So young. Then again, we begin swordsmanship at similarly young ages as well.”

_His grammar is really good for his age,_ I found myself thinking, processing his use of words.

“What made you learn at such a young age?”

My attention returned to him, frowning slightly as I tried to grasp his personality. The children of my time felt very . . . childish . . . compared to him.

“My father is a Captain of the merchant navy. The sea is in his blood, and therefore mine.”

“So out of obligation?”

“And because it is an extremely vital skill. From where I come from, most people can swim. It is useful, as well as fun,” I said, sighing faintly. Going to the beaches and swimming pools brought back memories, of both good and bad times.

I looked ahead, letting my eyes fall over the stalls and shops of the town. How different it was to the modern towns of twenty-first century.

The people of the town were going about their everyday business. Many paused briefly to greet Mitsuhide with jolly smiles. The young boy returned those smiles. I watched in awe. So young, yet he had the trust of the people and he greeted them back with confidence.

In history, Mitsuhide was a very controversial figure. Some records described him as a benevolent and understanding figure. Whereas other records described him as a silent snake with a sharp wit and dark heart, with just as dark ambitions, waiting patiently for his chance to strike. Because of his controversial personality, it also made it impossible for historians to decipher why Mitsuhide turned against Nobunaga.

I shivered. _ If I still live to see that time come to pass, then I guess I will find out._

1582 was the key date. Right now, it was 1537.

Mitsuhide spotted me staring at him. “What are you thinking, Aki-senpai?”

I blinked, and quickly looked away. “Nothing of importance, Akechi-sama,” I said quietly. Judging from what I could see of Mitsuhide so far, he was not the figure that records said was evil and cunning. He was the kind and benevolent figure.

Sadness washed through my heart. He had a very controversial life ahead of him, with a pitiful death at the end.

“Tell me.”

I frowned at the ground. “I was just thinking that Akechi-sama is very mature for his age.”

The little boy laughed. “I cannot be childlike and ignore my responsibilities, can I? I am heir to the clan after all.”

I smirked slightly to myself. _Ah, not so benevolent after all. Of course the boy would feel pride and arrogance with regards to his position._ My expression darkened, thinking of the present day, or in this case, the future. _The Japanese have far too much pride._

_He has not even thanked me yet for saving his life._

“Oh, Aki-senpai. Can you not call me Akechi-sama? We already have enough members of the family being addressed as that. It becomes confusing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then how . . .?”

“Call me the same as what Yuko uses.”

I glanced back at Yuko, and then back at him. “Mitsuhide-sama.”

The little boy nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

A sense of giddiness spread through my body. I was addressing Mitsuhide himself by his first name – with the honorific as well of course. It felt like an honour.

We made our way to the lake of our destination. It was empty, which was a surprise for me.

“Why is there no one here?” I wondered aloud thoughtfully. “On a day like today, I suspected that it would be busy.”

“They’re too afraid to come here since you appeared from the water,” Mitsuhide said, somewhat bluntly.

My shoulders sank. _Overly superstitious idiots._

One of the guards took the horse away to a close tree. The other two guards stood somewhere nearby in shady areas, and Yuko stayed close, dropping onto her knees to lay out the kit she had brought with her.

Mitsuhide had stripped to his loin cloth in no time and began wading through the clear waters. It impressed me that he seemed to have no fear of it since his experience. I also winced slightly. They did not have modern day underwear in this country or this era.

Yuko helped me lift and tie the bottom of my kimono higher.

“Much better!” I breathed. “I can move my legs easier now.”

I then moved to a low branch and asked one of the guards to cut a slab off, something akin to the size of a pillow. The guard eyed me dubiously and did not move an inch.

“It depends on why you want the branch, Aki-senpai,” Mitsuhide said from where he was in the water. “If you intend on attacking me with it, then of course the guard will not cut it for you.”

My expression fell. “I would never –!” I stopped, glancing at the guard again. He would not believe it anyway so I sighed. “I want to use it as a float for support. It is better for Mitsuhide-sama to hang onto that rather than me.”

The guard looked to Mitsuhide for confirmation. The boy nodded. I resisted the urge to say ‘See? I’m not going to do anything.’

The guard chopped the branch for me and I then waded into the water with it. The bark was smooth.

I began to teach, by making him hold onto the branch and then kick with his legs. Teaching a skill in a sport like swimming was harder than it looked. I adored teaching, but my field of teaching was in mathematics, often helping my friends and then students in the younger years that struggled with it. Teaching maths was much simpler.

Being in the water was refreshing, especially when the sun peaked at midday, beating heat down onto our heads.

“Why do you keep looking up?” Mitsuhide asked out of the blue while we took a break. He sat on the rocks in the sun while I was in the shade, but still close enough to him for conversation.

I glanced at him. _He is not afraid to ask what is on his mind, it seems, _I noted. _I’m not sure if I want to be impressed or irritated. He is very observant for his age, considering people __usually __find me very difficult to read._

“My body seems to have a weakness against heat,” I sighed. “Especially my head when in direct sunlight. But today is alright. There are plenty of areas here that are in the shade and the water keeps my head cool.”

Mitsuhide also glanced up briefly, squinting, and then looked away again with a slight expression of pain on his face, no doubt from the sun’s glare.

“Summers are really hot here,” he said. “Most people normally stay inside during late morning, midday, until after mid-afternoon.”

I snorted softly and nodded. “Perfectly understandable.”

After five more minutes, we began again and kept at it until the sun was beginning to set. Mitsuhide dried himself down and got dressed, while I sat on a rock, letting the setting sun dry me. They gave me a funny stare but did not bother me about it. It was unlikely that I would catch a cold.

“How well did you think you did today, Mitsuhide-sama?” I asked him, taking the same approach to my student as my driving instructor had with me.

Mitsuhide looked thoughtful. “It was adequate. I could have done better for it does not look difficult.” There was a tiny ring of impatience in his voice. It was expected.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Mitsuhide-sama,” I said carefully. “Especially during the first couple of lessons in anything. It is good to see that you are analytical of yourself, Mitsuhide-sama, as it will make you see faults and mistakes that you can improve on. But in my opinion, you did far better than what I was expecting. You are full of potential.”

His eyes brightened. “Really?”

I nodded. “Just after today, you have grasped the basic concepts of how to make your body float and how to kick. Honestly, all new learners would take at least seven days or so for that.” I watched him carefully as his features brightened further. Children had to be given constructive criticism and appraisal for them to do well in any topic.

My mind and body felt very tired as we made our way back to the residence. Yet to my surprise, Mitsuhide still seemed to be filled with energy. Youngsters always had so much energy.

I chuckled softly to myself. _I sound like an old lady._

As we walked back, I subtly made him pick out more of the faults from today’s session, asked him on how to improve on it, and then added my own voice to his conclusion. All in all, I was extremely relieved to have a pupil was that as good and as composed as he was. Instead of throwing a tantrum when he made a mistake, he just turned bitter or a touch snappy.

Once back at the manor, Mitsukuni himself greeted us with a broad grin.

“Well Mitsuhide! How was it? Is our newly employed sensei a failure?”

My jaw dropped. “Failure?” I exclaimed in dismay, before I clamped my hands over my mouth at the mistake. _I must not talk unless spoken to!_ I chided myself. It was extremely difficult to behave as such, especially when I was so used to the twenty-first century forms of behaviour.

Mitsukuni ruffled my hair. “I was joking,” he laughed.

“I address her as _senpai_ rather than _sensei_, Chichi-ue,” Mitsuhide said. “She is too young to be called _sensei_ in my opinion.”

I was not quite sure whether that was an insult or a compliment.

“Alright, _senpai_ it is,” Mitsukuni agreed. “Please come with me, Aki-san. I would like to discuss today with you.”

Mitsuhide bowed to his father, before the man turned and I followed him into the manor. Somewhere behind me, I heard Mitsuhide dash off somewhere, no doubt to go and play with friends I suspected. Everyone hated lessons, no matter what they were in. That was my opinion anyway, and the opinion of everyone I knew.

I followed Mitsukuni through the manor, staring at his back. He was very tall compared to the other men I had seen in this area and era. He was _normal_ height by my standards. The man also had a very likeable personality. He reminded me somewhat of my own father.

We sat down on a veranda and Mitsukuni called a maid to bring tea.

“How did my son do today?” He asked.

I nodded a bow, and explained to him how the session today went. My description was in detail and occasionally he interrupted to ask a question. The questions he asked were surprisingly intelligent, unlike the obvious questions that I was expecting from someone of this current time. Mentally, I chided myself for underestimating this family and their intelligence.

At the end, I said, “That is all I can report for today, Akechi-sama.” I bowed.

Mitsukuni nodded. “You have given me an excellent report, more so even than those in the patrol squads that report on an incident. It would probably be more beneficial if you were the ones giving the reports,” he chuckled.

I stiffened. Reporting on fights and incidents? For that I would have to be able to fight and in the ranks of the military of some form. It was a frightening thought, and something I did not want to have to get involved in just yet.

“Certainly for this week, I would like you to report to me as you have done so today after every session with Mitsuhide,” he said. “By then, all of us would have a better idea as to what to expect from you and when we can also begin your training to be his bodyguard.”

“Yes, Akechi-sama.”

He nodded, I bowed again, and I was dismissed.

Once the screen was shut behind me, I walked away and when it was quiet, I paused and let out a huge breath, releasing all the tension and stress that had been building all day.

So far so good.

* * * * *

Mitsukuni sat in silence, listening to Aki’s light footsteps as she walked away. With his sensitive hearing, he still heard her when she stopped and sighed explosively with released tension and stress.

He laughed softly under his breath. She hid her nervousness well. But it had to be released at some point. He wondered if she would learn at some point of his family’s true nature and bloodline. Would she run?

His smile vanished. _No, I do not think so. Especially if what she said was indeed true – jumping from one time to another. Finding out that my family is of Oni blood would not surprise her as much as it would for someone else._

Mitsukuni thought back to her description of the Yokai that had brought her to this time. Their descriptions were familiar, not because he had seen them before – because he had not – but because beings of that level were legendary amongst the Yokai world. He had heard of them. The Toki family which he served and was related to, were a family of Purebloods amongst the Oni, which made he and his brothers also of the same status, even if they were of lower social standing in the human world.

The Purebloods had the highest ranking in the Yokai world, but there was still a class that was higher and rarer, and they were the Superiors.

He sighed softly. _Clearly they have brought her here for a reason. This is not by chance or mistake. Whatever her role is, it plays a large part in our present time. She will play a large role in Mitsuhide’s life, I think. _

Could it be fate that the cliff had collapsed and Aki saved his son from drowning? Was it just a coincidence?

Mitsukuni shook his head slightly. People of his kind did not believe in coincidences, because everything _did_ happen for a reason.

The Lord gazed out into the garden. _For what reason did our Superiors bring you here for, Aki?_


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

“All in all, Mitsuhide-sama has made incredible progress this week,” Aki concluded. “He has already grasped the basics of swimming, which will be his foundations as he learns more and develops his skills. I will continue to hone his basics so before long, he will have a firm grounding in these skills.”

Mitsukuni nodded as he listened to Aki’s conclusion. “Of course. Practice makes perfect. One cannot proceed further unless they master the basics.”

“Indeed, Akechi-sama,” Aki agreed.

“I hope you will take that advice with you when you begin to practice kendo,” Mitsukuni said with a raised eyebrow.

Aki glanced up at him with slight surprise, and perhaps hope, until she quickly cast her eyes back down again, not responding to his comment.

This intrigued Mitsukuni slightly. It appeared that she hoped she could begin to learn, but dare not say or indicate otherwise in case he decided against it and her hopes may be crushed. Except it was not entirely up to him to decide.

“Thank you for your report, Aki. You may take your leave.”

Aki nodded. “Akechi-sama,” she murmured, bowed, and then backed out of the room past the screen, keeping her head bowed until the screen closed between them.

Mitsukuni smirked. She was learning the etiquette and way of speaking quickly, which was not much of a surprise, considering his wife took it as her duty to teach the young woman how to behave properly. It was certainly interesting to observe. Aki’s behaviour showed confidence and brutal honesty honed with personal opinion, courtesy of the time she originated from. However, there was clear evidence of her respect for elders and superiors, which was very helpful, as well as patience and surprising understanding of others. She was also rather interesting.

He shook his head with a soft chuckle, amazed at how the Superiors had sent Aki to them. Her arrival had made things very entertaining this week.

“Mitsuhide.”

He waited for a moment, and then his son slid open another screen, kneeling on the other side.

“Yes, Chichi-ue,” Mitsuhide said, bowing and then moving to sit before Mitsukuni, hands resting on his knees.

“Did you hear everything Aki said?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “She is very kind in her report, yet also critical.” He said the last bit with a hint of grudgingness to his tone.

“Yes,” Mitsukuni agreed. “It is very good. I think she is quite surprised by your progress.”

The corner of Mitsuhide’s lips twitched in a smile at the compliment, but also in amusement over something else.

“She is not aware of our blood and our natural ability to excel in academics and physical demands,” Mitsuhide said simply.

“No,” Mitsukuni agreed. “I wonder how long that will last.”

Mitsuhide glanced up at his father with a slight frown but Mitsukuni did not expand further.

“What do you think of her as a senpai?” Mitsukuni then asked his son.

Mitsuhide looked past Mitsukuni’s shoulders and out into the garden in thought. Mitsukuni smiled slightly just to see his son’s expression. He was so young, yet very mature. But to Mitsukuni, Mitsuhide was a boy and would probably always view him as such. Every parent said the same thing. No matter how old their children grew to be, their children were always children in their eyes.

“She is very observant and gives clear explanations for each of her teachings, sometimes using examples so I may understand better,” Mitsuhide began slowly. “She is more patient than my other senseis, I think, and not as demanding as the others.”

“Ho?” Mitsukuni chuckled again. “Is she too soft then?”

Mitsuhide did not reply immediately. “No, not exactly.” He then sighed. “I find her difficult to describe, Chichi-ue. She is patient and may seem soft, yet I see anything but that behind her eyes. She is determined and wants to see me perfect something, both physically and mentally understand it through and through, before she will allow me to move onto the next skill or have a break.”

Mitsukuni’s expression grew more serious as he listened, nodding slightly, liking what he heard. However, he held it at an arm’s length, for he could not be sure of this until he had _seen_ it himself.

“So do you think she will be suitable to begin learning kendo?” Mitsukuni then suggested to his son.

Mitsuhide grinned for a moment. “From what I have seen so far, I cannot see why not. But, she is quite old to begin learning. Don’t you think it is a bit pointless for her to become my bodyguard as her skills will not be as good as the guards that surround me?”

Mitsukuni inhaled deeply, before breathing out slowly. Indeed, Aki would be very late to begin kendo, and her skills would probably never be as good as those of the simple guards that remained close to the manor. Having Aki as Mitsuhide’s personal bodyguard was out of the question really.

However, as a Pureblooded Oni, Mitsukuni was not ignorant enough to not sense that Aki had been sent to the Akechi for a reason. Was it something to do with his son?

That is what Mitsukuni felt, therefore he also felt that Aki should remain close to Mitsuhide. And as an Oni, he would obey what his instinct hinted at, whatever that may be. The questions were never clear, but soon enough, the small parts of it would come together to provide the answer.

“We shall see how well she does,” Mitsukuni decided. “I will have her train under Makoto beginning tomorrow.”

“What about my lessons with Aki-senpai?”

“You can have the day off tomorrow,” Mitsukuni said, waving his hand dismissively. “Then we will try and partition the time between everything that both you and her must learn. I will figure that out later. You are dismissed.”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Very well, Chichi-ue.”

His son bowed, and left, leaving Mitsukuni once again to his thoughts, wondering what the Superiors intended for the Akechi by bringing Aki to them from the future.

* * * * *

I felt somewhat stupid, wearing the full kendo gear in the dojo. It was heavy and all the seams were in the wrong places, like all the other clothes I wore. Occasionally I sat, staring at my twenty-first century clothes in self-pity, wishing I could wear it as it felt more comfortable.

Still, there was nothing I could do about that. I was here in the sixteenth century so I had to pretend I was one of that time, whether I liked it or not.

Makoto was a middle-aged man with gradually greying hair. He approached me with a bamboo katana and instantly, I felt my heart pound in both giddiness and nervousness. This was my first lesson in kendo. It was something I had been looking very forward to, as well as dreading.

I had learnt some basic self-defence when I was fifteen. Of course though, I had forgotten all of it, so this was an excellent opportunity to learn some form of combat in order to defend myself in this land and time. It was a terrifying thought though that I may have to use it to defend my life one day, or that of someone else.

_Mitsuhide-sama . . ._ I thought. I was eighteen. How was I supposed to be able to become a good enough fighter to protect the young Lord? It was not realistic.

_Or does Mitsukuni have something up his sleeve . . .?_ I wondered in wariness.

It was something I had thought over for many hours before I slept and after I woke. In the end, I came to no conclusion, and probably never would.

“This is what you will be using for a few years to master the basics,” Makoto said, handing the bamboo katana to me with two hands along the bamboo blade.

Bottom line was, I was eager to learn kendo because it looked cool.

I wrapped my gloved hand around the hilt firmly as Makoto taught, and then he took his hands away. The bamboo katana yanked my arms down and the tip met the tatami floor with a clack.

“Oof!” I grunted, dismayed at the weight of it.

Laughter rang in the air and automatically, I looked towards the source, already feeling my face begin to burn in embarrassment. Mitsukuni and Mitsuhisa stood along the edge. My jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Do not tell me you are that weak,” Mitsukuni said.

“That isn’t even a real katana,” Mitsuhisa added.

“I have never done this before, and it’s heavier than it looks!” I objected.

Makoto nodded. “This is a lighter version of a real katana. Until you have mastered the weight of this one, you will not move onto one of the true weight, or wield a true katana.”

“Do not disappoint us, Aki,” Mitsukuni almost taunted. “Makoto could be training other guards right now but we have persuaded him to spend some of his precious time to train you instead for now.”

I gulped, feeling the pressure and I bowed quickly once again. “Thank you very much for taking the time to teach me, Makoto-sensei. I hope I will not disappoint you.”

Makoto just grunted, and then our lesson began. He was strict with discipline which was frightening, forcing me to think or move in ways which I was not comfortable. There was no _easing_ me into the skill of swordsmanship. It was as we always said in the modern day: I was thrown into the deep end of the water to either swim or drown.

I swam.

At the end of the day, Makoto said, “You did better than I expected. You show potential, especially for a woman. Very few women think like a man.”

I bowed humbly, struggling to bring my gasps for breath under control. “Thank you very much, Makoto-sensei. I have learnt much today.”

Mitsukuni and Mitsuhisa clapped in approval. “You are indeed very unusual for a woman here,” Mitsukuni said with a grin.

“Do all women think as you do from your era?” Mitsuhisa asked curiously. “Do they all think like men?”

My eyes widened in alarm and flashed to Makoto. How could they speak of it so carelessly in front of others?

Mitsukuni held up a hand. “Relax, Aki. He is not fussed on it. You are still a normal human being. We live in an age of Tengus, Kitsunes, Oni and Yokai. Your little case is no different to that.”

I was not convinced, but Makoto just grunted again, uninterested, and left the dojo. Yuko hurried over with a towel so I could wipe the sweat from my face and neck. My entire body was sweating, and the uniform did not help.

“So?” Mitsuhisa asked again excitedly and I glanced at him. He was a bit like Mitsukuni, with a good sense of humour, though not as cutting as Mitsukuni. Mitsuyasu was different to both of them, being the man who was the most serious.

I shook my head. “Most women are no different to the women of this era. It is simply in the design of a woman. But where I am from, men and women are of equal standing and power.”

Their eyebrows rose, as did Yuko’s. There was burning curiosity in her expression which she was careful to not show to the Lords.

“Interesting,” Mitsuhisa said slowly. “Your training will be split with Mitsuhide’s training so there is no overlap. If you are to remain in this household, you will also learn martial arts. We will take care of your schedule.”

_Martial arts?!_ Being knackered as I was, it was not something I wanted to hear. My body was aching all over, and it would be worse tonight and tomorrow morning especially. I was really not in the mood for more work.

But this was how my parents brought me up: trained to deal and get on with whatever hateful situation was dumped on my shoulders, so that I would excel.

I bowed again to the Lords.

“Go and get cleaned up and have a rest for the remaining evening,” Mitsukuni said. “You deserve it. Tomorrow, you will be back to teaching Mitsuhide.”

“Yes, Akechi-sama.”

“Oh! That’s another thing I wanted to mention,” Mitsukuni suddenly said. “When I am with my brothers, you should use our other names. So call him,” he pointed at Mitsuhisa. “_Mitsuhisa-sama._ And call our other brother, _Mitsuyasu-sama_, and call me, _Mitsukuni-sama_. There are three _Akechi-sama_s so none of us are going to know who is being addressed.”

I nodded, feeling partly relieved as that other problem was now solved. The two Lords left, and Yuko led me to the baths so I could clean down all the sweat and ease my muscles and joints.

* * * * *

The days began to pass and gradually, I fell into a routine. A month passed and I was beginning to recognise familiar faces. Some accepted me into the household, while others did not. I was fine with that though as it was understandable. Yuko and Kenji had become my friends to some degree. Even the Lords and Lady Akechi were accepting me.

Another month passed and I was beginning to adapt. My training in martial arts and kendo was going well. Though, I could tell that I would never develop skills as well as that of the Lords in the short amount of time that was my youth. Still, I tried to strive for competency.

Mitsuhide was learning extremely well too. Occasionally he had thrown a tantrum when he could not perform a stroke correctly, which was actually a relief. Mitsuhide was a child, and should behave as such, never mind what expectations were placed on him as being the successor of the clan.

Mitsukuni and Mitsuhisa were as talkative as ever. Mitsuyasu looked as uninterested as ever. Mitsuhide was as curious as ever and Lady Akechi had apparently gone about her way to take me under her wing as a daughter that she never had. She felt nothing like a mother though, trying to train me to become more ladylike and adept in the culture and etiquette of this land.

I stopped what I was doing and stared out of the open screens at the approaching night, watching the rain fall without the wind. Tears stung my eyes as I thought of my parents once again. I missed them terribly. The Akechi family were nothing like my family. Even in the modern day, my family were rare.

When my life was settled down more appropriately, then I would go and search for the three Yokai that had brought me to this time. It was ironic though. I had spent years dreaming and daydreaming of being sucked back into time to a place which truly interested me, whether that be ancient China, Egypt, the Hittite Empire, or Sengoku Japan, often wishing that I could escape the real world and go into another where it would be more fun, where I could have superpowers.

It was nothing of the sort. I was extremely lucky that Mitsuhide happened to be drowning when the snake Demon brought me through the water. They were now indebted to me, providing me with a place to stay and some form of security as payment for saving their heir’s life.

I wondered what would have happened if circumstances were different. It was not as easy as the modern day, where I could apply for benefits and there was no war – aside from the constant conflict in certain regions of the world. Here, I would have to find a way to earn money just to buy food, let alone find somewhere with a roof. Mind you, it was the same in the modern day, except things were softer, attitudes were more understanding.

It made me shiver, to imagine how different it could have been if I did not emerge from that lake. I would probably have to become a prostitute, living amongst other people’s own sewage in back alleys. I could be raped, beaten, killed even.

_Frightening indeed,_ I realised, feeling cold.

I shook my head, a weak attempt to shake the terrible imaginings from my head, and looked back down at what had previously taken my attention. My bag, which I had been wearing the day I came to the Akechi, lay on the floor beside me, along with all my papers and books, pens and pencils – and a completely dead mobile phone.

A small sigh of misery escaped my chest. At least half of my stuff was ruined. Paper had been ripped and fallen to pieces when it was wet. Some of the work which I had written using a fountain pen was now smudges of blue ink. Work in biro pens was still fine to some extent, but the dried paper was not.

_Well, there isn’t really much point in all of this now,_ I thought grimly. _I can’t write my work anywhere here._

What really irritated me though was the amount of _effort_ I had put into all of this, and now it was wrecked. All that time was wasted.

At least some of my pens still worked and my spare notebook could still pass as a notebook. No doubt it would come in handy.

“What is all of that?”

I glanced up and made a surprised sound. Mitsuhide stood on the veranda, having walked around the edge from some other part of the castle. He was alone.

“Mitsuhide-sama. Do you not have a guard or servant with you?”

He glanced about him. “No. I don’t have to always have a guard with me wherever I go, especially at home,” he said, almost childlike with a slight grumble. “I am heir to my clan but we are not as powerful as those like the Toki.”

I smiled in amusement. “Yes, but you are still important nonetheless. It would devastate all of us should something terrible happen to you.”

“Really?” He asked quietly.

I nodded. “Of course.” I then picked up some of my belongings. “Now, would you like to see what strange things I brought with me to this world?”

Mitsuhide’s face lit up immediately and he plodded over, sitting close to me. He peered at some of my papers and his eyes widened.

“Is this . . . paper?” He picked one of them up.

“Yes. Ah, please be careful with them. They’ve been damaged by the water.”

“Paper is so expensive though, yet you have so much.”

“Ah, yes,” I said sheepishly, remembering. “In the age that I come from, paper is very common and extremely cheap.”

He touched it all with a child’s burning curiosity. The little boy in front of me was nothing more than a boy, having discarded his position as young Lord behind him and he grinned.

“Your world must be filled with wonders!” He breathed in fascination.

My expression softened. “Indeed, it is filled with many wonders.”

He glanced up at me, sensing my solemn tone. “I’m sorry; I did not think that that may make you sad.”

I shrugged and chuckled. “Well, what can be done? There is no point in moping and waiting for something that may never come.” I would always feel sad over my situation, but I would not allow myself to wallow in self-pity. I was here, and therefore I wanted to be of use, even if it was a tiny bit. And I was happy, oddly enough, especially now. Mitsuhide apologised, showing his true childish side, and not the arrogance that his position brought him.

“What is this?” Mitsuhide questioned, holding up my papers with still visible writing. “Is this another language?”

My smile widened. “It’s my mother tongue – English. This is what it looks like in writing.”

“Can you read it out loud?” He asked excitedly.

I laughed. “Alright.” And so I read my work out. It was pleasant, to hear my voice in English again. I thought in English, muttered under my breath in English, and cursed in English. But I had not spoken like this in English since coming to the sixteenth century.

Mitsuhide listened in awe and before I knew it, he was making me teach him the basics, such as ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, and ‘how are you?’. I praised his enthusiasm, for I knew it would not last.

Still, that evening had been the best since I had arrived. We spoke and laughed and taught. I told him of my time – the twenty-first century.

* * * * *

Mitsuhide blinked sleepily. The light was dim, for it was the light of dawn. The birds were beginning to wake and the air was comfortably cool, nothing like the cloying humidity of midday. The rain had stopped

He lay on his side, still in his clothes from yesterday evening. Aki lay in front of him, sleeping as well and still holding the writing stick she called a ‘pen’. Her face was peaceful.

They had talked into the early hours of the morning before they feel asleep. Mitsuhide had been too lazy to go back to his own quarters, which was a little surprise for him. It had to be something to do with Aki’s light-hearted attitude. He felt like he was getting infected by it.

However, it was nice. For some reason, her presence made him feel at ease. Of course, she irritated him to no end, like his other teachers, but she also spoke to him as a friend, even though their ages were as vast as almost ten years.

Mitsuhide sat up and yawned. Aki shifted in her sleep and he stiffened. She rolled over, and her breathing deepened again.

He smiled faintly, stood, and silently left, deciding it was about time he returned to his own quarters. The maids had come to collect him a few times last night, but he had shooed them off, far too interested in listening to what Aki had to say of her time.

At first, she seemed quite dull. She was anything but that.

With a smug smile, Mitsuhide walked on, wondering what other stories Aki had to say of her time.

* * * * *

**8 months later; early 1538; winter.**

Mitsukuni sat in silence, his expression unreadable. Aki sat before him. Her eyes were downcast and sad. The screens were closed to the biting winter air outside, but that did not stop the cold from penetrating into the manor. The braziers only helped a little to chase away the chill. Birds sang though, bringing some life to the deadness of a winter atmosphere.

“I wish I heeded your warning, Aki,” Mitsukuni sighed. “Knowing the future is a curse, not a gift.” He wished she never asked and forced her to tell him his son’s future.

Aki neither nodded nor shook her head. Her expression told him that events like this were not the first time for her. Despite that, he did not press further about what she could be capable of. What she had told him however, was already written in her history.

“Is there any way to alter Mitsuhide’s fate?” He asked quietly. It seemed like his son had a long life ahead of him, one that initially brought pride to the Akechi name and made them great. But, was Mitsuhide really destined to bring about one of the greatest – and tragically treacherous – events in Japanese history, and die?

Aki inhaled slowly. “Perhaps. But the world I come from is created from the events that happened in the past. If something significant changes, then so does the future.”

“But Mitsuhide is just one person.”

“That brought about the Japan that I know in my current time. If Mitsuhide does something different, then this country will also be different. It will change the lives of millions of people.”

Mitsukuni felt his face pale. _So many lives. _He had never felt like this before, never felt so helpless and small in the face of something that was beyond anyone’s control.

“Japan is one country,” Mitsukuni said, feeling his mouth go dry. “And a small one as well. If Mitsuhide can do things differently, then it may be for the better.” Despite his heart pounding in hope, he did not let it surface beyond that.

Aki exhaled softly. “He could, for he is a boy with a good heart, judging from what I see so far. But there is nothing to say that he will not change.”

“If you remain beside him as he grows, then I doubt he will become a man who is hungry for power and control,” Mitsukuni said flatly. “With your knowledge, he could make this land a better place.”

“Again, perhaps,” Aki said quietly. She sighed. “But it is not so simple. Japan is just one country, yes, and always remains that way. But in four hundred years’ time, the people of this land will attempt to become heartless conquerors that will massacre millions and millions of people from the many countries surrounding this one. You are quite hated in my time because of that.”

Mitsukuni flinched.

“If Mitsuhide could survive his fate against the warlords in the future, then he could well change the foundations of thought that the people of this land live upon,” Aki said. “He could change the future. But if that occurs, then future events in my time will change, some things may never have even come to pass. People that live in my time, may never have lived at all because of the events in the past. My parents may never have met, and I will disappear.”

Mitsukuni’s eyes flashed to her face in shock.

_Aki will . . . disappear?_

“But how?” He frowned. “You are not a native of this land, or . . .” He trailed off, thinking again of what she had said about the Japanese invading the surrounding countries and massacring them. Did she originate from one of them?

“On my mother’s side, my ancestry is from China. You will know of it as the Middle Kingdom.”

His eyes widened. Just hearing of the Middle Kingdom made it feel like a great weight was weighing down on him from behind. It was a great empire, an empire of stunning history and culture, from where many things in Japan truly originated from. Japan’s ancestors came from Korea, but much of the language and culture came from the Middle Kingdom.

Mitsukuni’s eyes then narrowed in sudden dismay and anger. The people of Japan in the future tried to invade _them_?

_How dare they? Such disrespect, such shame and dishonour!_

He looked back across at Aki. So, she was someone of that empire.

He snorted softly at the irony. His Superiors brought such a person to them. “What is your true name, Aki?”

She smiled faintly, and traced the kanji out on the tatami with her finger. Mitsukuni followed every motion.

“In my mother’s language, I am called _Hai Ting_,” she said gently. “_Hai,_ meaning the _sea._ And _Ting,_ meaning _graceful_.”

Mitsukuni smiled and chuckled. “How accurate.”

His smile faded as quickly as it came and his expression fell. He did not want her to fade. Even though she was not his daughter, it was like she was.

“What do I do to protect my son?” He whispered.

Aki’s shoulders sank. “For now, just do as you always have done, Akechi-sama. Protect your son as any good father would. Now is not the time to worry, for Mitsuhide-sama’s life is calm and uneventful at the best of times until he is much older.”

Mitsukuni held her gaze. “Will you guide him?”

Aki bit on her lower lip. “That will depend if I am still around by that time, Akechi-sama. I may have already discovered a way to return to my own time, or I may be dead. These are very dangerous times to live in.”

Mitsukuni looked away. It was difficult to think of how to proceed with this new development. But he knew for certain that Aki would not be returning to her time any time soon. The Superiors sent her here for a reason, and Mitsukuni was beginning to feel that it had something to do with Mitsuhide’s future.

Aki was still young. She would stay by Mitsuhide as he grew. But with Mitsukuni’s position, he never knew when he may be forced to fight, or if he would die.

“Will you promise me something then, Aki?”

Aki looked at him with unwavering eyes. She gave an awkward side smile. “That will depend on the promise, Akechi-sama.”

He laughed softly. He liked this gentle, joking confidence.

His expression hardened again though. “While you are in this time and in this land, protect Mitsuhide. If I am not here, then protect and guide him in my place.”

Something flashed through Aki’s eyes and her jaw clenched. Confusion flitted through Mitsukuni at her faint reaction, but her reaction was gone in an instant.

She bowed. “I promise.”


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

**1538; February**

I strolled through the gardens of the manor in the early morning. It was misty and quiet, enveloping me in a false sense of security and peace. It was perhaps eight o’clock or so, if I was trying to estimate using my world’s methods of measuring time. But it was still dull with winter. Late February it was.

While I preferred the cold over the scorching heat of summer, the biting iciness of the air was still grimly uncomfortable. My haori was wrapped tightly about my quilted kimono. It was nowhere near enough, and I wished for my long cashmere coat back in my wardrobe in England, four hundred years in the future.

I snorted softly at the insanity of it all. Thinking about the time loops was incredibly confusing which often left my head aching from it, but it never ceased to fascinate me. So many people wrote stories based around time, especially stories where time was repeated over and over again. They were extraordinary plots and if done well, it was superb. Usually it left me marvelling at how well they had strung it together, as well as feeling envious at their skill, for I could not do it.

And it made me wonder about my situation. The promise I made to Mitsukuni weighed heavily on my shoulders. He did not know that he would die later this year.

It had been almost a year now since I was brought to this time and to the Akechi. Nine months. It was a long time, and yet it only felt like yesterday. And I was worried because a lot was about to happen soon.

Mitsukuni would die in September. How? I was not sure, but the knowledge brought me great sadness. He was a jolly man who was like a father. He governed his clan well and served the Daimyo of Mino – the Toki – well.

However, in four years’ time during the year 1542, Saito Dousan would rise to power and Mino would be split with civil war.

The Akechi would side with the Toki – and the Toki would lose.

I ground my teeth together at the circumstances under which that coup d’état would occur. Dousan was a sly bastard, truly worthy of being called the Serpent of Mino. It made me shiver to realise that I would probably be serving him in four years’ time if I was still here.

“Why are you out here if you are cold?”

I stiffened at the voice and turned quickly. Mitsuhide morphed out of the mist like a mist wraith. I stared at him for a moment, forgetting that he was a young boy, because for a moment, he felt like something more, an immortal being of the supernatural with hidden power.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” I exhaled in relief. “You scared me for a moment.”

He – along with all the other members of the Akechi family by blood – was very difficult to notice when they approached from behind or the sides. Unless they made it obvious, I was having a hard time detecting their presences.

He sniffed. “So you say. Yet you don’t look it.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I may take it as my task to make you scream in fright. You are not like the other girls and women,” he pondered, tapping his chin and I laughed awkwardly.

“I had best be prepared then for some unsuspecting pranks.”

Mitsuhide smirked mischievously. Over the months, he had earned a lot more confidence in my presence. He spoke to me about a lot of things, which I found surprising as I thought that everyone of this time were conservative and kept their thoughts to themselves. More often than not, they did not even think outside the box.

So perhaps I had judged the people of the sixteenth century in general incorrectly. Or maybe it was just because Mitsuhide was a bit different to the others. It was nice. Because he was a bit like someone from my time in that respect. He was extremely talkative, reminding me of my neighbour’s grandson back in England. My family and I adored him.

I wondered how Mitsuhide’s personality would change later on though, and when. In recorded history, he was not as talkative as this. But then again, there was not much about his history anyway.

“You are nearly ten years old, Mitsuhide-sama,” I noted.

He frowned. “Ten years old? How do you know that? No one ever knows their exact ages.”

I smiled. “You were born on March 10th. That is less than thirty days from now, though I can’t be sure because I don’t know if this February is a leap year,” I added with a sigh under my breath. He looked at me, confused.

“Mara-chu? Fe-buri . . .?” He struggled to pronounce the English words I had just used.

I chuckled softly. “I will show you later how time is measured where I come from.” I peered at him and he blinked, leaning back slightly as any young child would when under the scrutiny of a taller senior. “Do you celebrate the days of your birth here?”

“Ano . . .” he trailed off, confused by my question. “No?”

I sighed. Such celebrations like birthdays did not seem to exist. No doubt it was a modern day thing. My birthday was last month, making me nineteen. Although I was never fussed on birthdays or presents, it felt quite empty and lonely when no one said to me ‘happy birthday!’ this year.

No matter, I would treat Mitsuhide to something similar. I just had to figure out what he may like that I could afford. No doubt he would want something like a horse or a katana for later when he grew older. What about toys? I had not seen him play with any though. Food?

He liked sweets.

I grinned.

“Why are you smiling?” Mitsuhide asked warily.

“No reason,” I said lightly.

He huffed. “There is a reason. You do that a lot.”

“Do what a lot?”

“Make expressions for no reason. You’re obviously thinking of something.”

“Oh?” I mused. “You are very observant, Mitsuhide-sama. Can you tell what I am thinking?”

He crossed his arms and looked away, miffed. “Who would want to?”

I laughed and ruffled his hair. “I’m not as dull as I appear.”

Mitsuhide rocked back on his heels with a small exclamation and tried to slap my hand away. These carefree moments were what I cherished the most. Because no one knew what lay around the corner the next day.

* * * * *

Mitsukuni sat where he was, drinking hot tea which his wife had brought along. She stood next to the screens which were slightly open, allowing her to look outside.

“Jubei has taken a liking to Aki,” his wife said. “It is a pity that she is only human. Her knowledge will be invaluable.”

Mitsukuni chuckled. “It is a good thing then that she is with us and not with another clan. And it is chilly, my Yamagishi-hime. Care to close the screen?”

Lady Akechi glanced back at him with a dubious stare. “Pretending to be human? We do not feel the extremities of the weather as they do.”

Mitsukuni sipped his tea, feeling the heat of it warm his belly. “It is simply good manners. We are surrounded by fragile humans. The cold is very uncomfortable for them.”

Lady Akechi sighed and slid the screen shut. “I do wonder why our Superiors sent her to us. Could it perhaps be her knowledge, her potential? She is very intelligent, and a fast learner in combat as well as etiquette.”

Mitsukuni shrugged, but lowered his tea with a grim breath. “I do not know. But at least I can rest easy knowing that Aki will keep watch over Jubei if we are not around.”

“We will be here for a long while yet.”

“Indeed,” Mitsukuni said deeply. “For we are immortal Oni.”

_Unless we are struck down_, he thought silently. _Immortality does not necessarily mean living for eternity. A blade will still be able to st__op__ our hearts. Immortality simply means that we will keep on living – provided we are not killed._

* * * * *

I drew out a little calendar and explained to Mitsuhide how it worked. During these nine months, I had explained a lot to Mitsuhide and he absorbed it like a dry sponge. A child’s curiosity was almost impossible to quench, and if he remembered it all, he would be one of the most intelligent samurai to have lived.

That made me hesitate. I was not supposed to be in this day and age. My knowledge was not of this time as I knew of things that had yet to be invented. If Mitsuhide knew of some things, it could change history itself.

But what if that was supposed to happen?

It could not happen though, because if it did, then I would disappear as the future would change, which would then mean that I would never be born and I would never have been transported back in time.

My head spun. I could barely understand my thoughts.

“Aki-senpai?” Mitsuhide interrupted my thoughts. “You stopped in mid-sentence.”

I shook my head and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I was just thinking. As I was saying, there are twelve months in the year, but that works only in the solar calendar. You follow the lunar calendar from the Middle Kingdom so it’s a bit different, but the general principles are the same,” I carried on explaining, only half there while the rest of my attention was on worrying.

I could not risk changing history. Could I even do such a thing though? I was just one person, and not even someone who knew much about Japan’s history either.

_I must wait and see_, I thought to myself. _There is still a long way before Mitsuhide reaches the mid-1500s when things start to happen. I will make sure that the course of history follows its normal route._

. . . Because I was afraid of what might happen should events start to change. Was I afraid of the prospect of disappearing?

My shoulders sank slightly and I watched Mitsuhide mull over the calendar diagram.

_No . . . I am not afraid of disappearing_. I was afraid of my parents and little sister disappearing. If they did because of the events that I changed, then in effect, I killed them.

Mitsuhide reached to my bag again and touched one of the string decorations attached to it. I just called it a key ring, even though it was not as there was no metal on it. It was from Hong Kong at a market stall where they sold hundreds of the little things – red looped string attached to jade and a few beads of more jade. I had quite a few, considering they were so cheap, and one of them was still attached to my dead mobile phone. One was a dragon, and the other was a tiger. There were at least ten of mine back home, but only two with me currently.

“Is this from the Middle Kingdom as well?” He asked curiously. He had eyed it a few times before, I noticed.

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, Chichi-ue said that half of your bloodline originates from the Middle Kingdom,” he first said and I found myself rolling my eyes. Mitsukuni was as much of a child and a gossiper as a normal person, despite his position of authority. “And, I recognise the style.”

I titled my head to the side. “I guess you could say that. It is Chinese, yes. It is actually from a pirate island along the south coast of the Middle Kingdom. In my time though, it is a thriving city of global importance under the control of the Middle Kingdom.”

“I would like to see it all one day,” he murmured.

I scoffed. “If you can live for another four hundred years at least, then you can see it. Until then, I suggest focussing on the present.”

He muttered something under his breath and I frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

He quickly shook his head. “Nothing.”

I huffed at the comment. It irritated me to no end when someone said that, but unfortunately, Mitsuhide was a young Lord so I could not pursue it. In the end, I swallowed my prompt back down. They felt like pebbles sinking in my stomach.

Mitsuhide looked at the one of my dead mobile. “A tiger and a dragon,” he stated. “Good choices. Why did you pick them?”

I raised another eyebrow. “What? Mitsuhide-sama is actually interested in finding out reasons behind such a simple purchase?”

Something in that question must have struck a chord within him, as his face began to turn slightly red and he looked away. “Not really. I am just curious,” he mumbled.

I stared at him, before a grin stretched across my lips. The boy was actually interested in discovering how I thought and the reasoning behind my decisions.

“Are you interested about me?” I teased. “The strange woman from another time?”

His face went redder. “N-no I am not!”

I laughed. Teasing was entertaining. I had dished out a good deal to my friends back in England, and received my fair share of embarrassment in return.

“Well,” I began, saving Mitsuhide further embarrassment for his innocent curiosity. “I chose the dragon because it is a legendary mythical creature of great celestial power and divine elegance. And I chose the tiger because of its animalistic superiority in the wild, its grace and power, but mainly because that was what my father used to call me when I was little.”

“Your father called you Tiger?”

“I had a very bad temper back then,” I breathed with remembrance. “The temper of a tiger when she roars.”

Mitsuhide looked stunned. The redness of his cheeks was already fading. “You are lying,” he challenged.

I untied the tiger key ring from my phone. “Some people change, Mitsuhide-sama. Not completely, but in many aspects,” I said with a slight shrug. “I used to be very loud when I was around 5 years old. I used to sing and dance all the time, as well as cry and throw tantrums.” I looked back at him. He appeared to be struggling to accept the vast changes, or to try and imagine how I was back then. The woman in the room with him now was nothing like that. “You will probably change as well, Mitsuhide-sama, but for the better. Age often makes one wiser.”

“I don’t want to change,” he said firmly.

“Of course you won’t.”

He looked confused at that statement.

“The general foundation of your personality will always be there. Right now, you are very observant, calculating and fair, as well as kind. That will remain with you for the rest of your life. It’s just other little things may change, such as how chatty you are. Maybe in say, hmm, eight years’ time or so, you will become less talkative, but you may still retain the general principles of your personality.”

I could tell that while Mitsuhide attempted not to show it, he was struggling to understand the concepts I had pounced on him, so I smiled. “Don’t worry; you will understand my words when you are older. Now, my own little question; which creature do you like better? The dragon or the tiger?”

I was expecting him to say the dragon, as that was more like him. Therefore I was surprised when he said the tiger.

“Why?” I asked, my turn to wonder what went on in his head.

He shook his head stubbornly and placed a finger to his lips with a sneaky smile. “Secret. Maybe one day in the future, I will tell you.”

I sniffed. “How cruel. You know many of my secrets and yet I know hardly any of yours.”

He laughed, a sound filled with secrecy. “Again, maybe I will tell you in the future.”

I sighed. “Fine.”

A knock came at the screen. “Mitsuhide-sama, Aki-san.”

“Come in, Yuko,” Mitsuhide said.

Indeed it was Yuko who then slid the screen open and I mentally praised Mitsuhide for being able to notice. Then again, he had spent his entire life so far in her company, so he should be able to recognise her voice by now.

“Aki-san, may we ask you to help with Mitsuhara-sama?” Yuko asked.

Mitsuhara was Mitsuhide’s young cousin and Mitsuyasu’s son. Born in 1537, the boy was nearly a year old.

“Of course,” I replied. “May I have your permission to leave, Mitsuhide-sama?”

Mitsuhide waved a hand dismissively. “Go, go. I will put your things away, seeing as I know where it all goes now anyway.”

I flashed a nod of thanks, gave a small bow, and left with Yuko, still dubious if I was trusting Mitsuhide too much.

* * * * *

I made my way along what could only be called a high-street. It was March 10th, and I found myself feeling surprised at how nice the weather was compared to the UK, where March was always such a gloomy and rainy month. The air was still chilly, but the sun was bright and chased some of the chill away.

Women and a few men cast glances in my direction. Normally, I would not meet those eyes as my moto had always been ‘if I cannot see them, then they do not exist’. Of course though, this was a different time and I had to adapt. So I cast emotionless glances at them in return, irritated that they would stare in the first place. The men looked away with a sniff, and the women looked away with a blush and a giggle.

Why they blushed?

Well, that was because I was dressed as a man. It was Yuko’s suggestion. My height really made me stand out amongst normal women in particular, so dressing as a man would make me look a bit more normal. And seeing as I was virtually flat chested anyway, it made my cross-dressing easier.

My arms were crossed and tucked within the sleeves of my haori; my hair was tied back with a leather band and from that leather band swung my little jade key ring on its red string. I had the dragon, while I planned on giving Mitsuhide the tiger along with some mochi once I found some.

I was not in any rush, and I paused at some stalls to see wares and stopped to watch a troupe of travelling performers. While I smiled at the entertainment or the fascinating wares that no longer existed from my time, my body would not relax.

Last night, I dreamt that an incident happened while I was in the town. Most people would pass a dream off as a dream, but for me . . . things were different. They were more than that.

I strolled and kept my senses open, until I found a stall filled with freshly made mochi, and the staff were working to make more as many people bought their wares. Immediately my expression brightened and I walked over, peering over the shoulders and heads of the people in front of me.

When enough had bought their selection and moved out of the way, I shuffled into the space available and the stall owner gave me a toothy grin.

“What can I do for the handsome young Lord?” He asked.

I blinked at the misplaced complement. “What? I am not a Lord.”

“Really? You have the features –”

“No! Please don’t take my daughter!”

The stall owner, me, as well as the other customers, turned around at the shrill cry that was accompanied by mocking laughter and wary murmur. Other people had stopped to look.

There were three men. One was holding back a woman, and the other two were trying to drag away a young girl barely fourteen years of age. That is what I had come to assume anyway over my stay here. She actually looked like she was twelve, but this was a different age. Body structures and sizes were very different compared to the modern day.

“It’s alright,” one of the men cooed. “We will bring her back tomorrow.”

“No, Oka-san!” The young girl said desperately. “Don’t let them take me away!”

One of the two men handling her tugged her arm harder. “Oi, we are samurai. We keep your roads and towns safe. Don’t you think we deserve a reward?”

Fury exploded in my chest as I caught on immediately. She was only fourteen for Christ’s sake! And no one was helping at all.

The alarm bells rang in my head as the dream I had last night came into fruition, again.

_Why? _I thought angrily. _Why do my dreams have to come true? I don’t want to see the future._

I moved my way through the building crowd, trying to analyse the situation. Getting involved was not something I wanted to do. And I had only been learning martial arts for nine months or so. The men wore katanas and I gulped. My only weapon was a knife hidden up my sleeve.

_Come on, someone, do something! _I prayed. The shrill cries of the mother and daughter felt like the tiny stabs of a needle.

“It’ll be fine,” the men boasted. “We will take good care of you. We’ll turn you into a woman.”

My stomach rolled sickeningly. They wanted to rape her. And no one was going to stop them from dragging her away to her fate?

With cold fury, I stepped from the crowd behind the two men holding the daughter. Remembering my training and my own knowledge of the human body, my hand flashed out and caught one of the men across the side of the neck, striking a nerve and blocking the carotid artery temporarily. The man jerked with a grunt, and collapsed unconscious on the ground, causing a few people to cry out in shock and step back to give more room, as the realisation a fight might occur dawned on them.

Without hesitation, I kicked the second man’s wrist, cracking the scaphoid and he yelped, jerking his hand back. The girl gasped in fright and I pulled her behind me protectively.

“Honestly, no matter what the era is, scum like you will always exist,” I growled at the two men still standing. “You deserve to be whipped.”

“You bastard!” The second one snarled, clutching his wrist. “What did you do?”

“I broke your wrist,” I said flatly, knowing full well that he would not understand what the scaphoid was, nor the result when it was broken. “You will no longer be able to wield a katana for as long as you live.”

“What did you say?” He shrieked.

I was in no mood to repeat myself, particularly as I did not know what the Japanese word for ‘scaphoid’ was. My heart was already pounding hard enough as it was from terrified nervousness. I glanced at the mother. Her tearful eyes flickered between me and the man that held her with frightened hope.

“Let the mother go,” I said slowly to the third man.

He smirked and gripped the mother to him tightly. “Give us the girl, and I will release the mother.”

The girl behind me whimpered, clutching my haori. She did not want her mother to suffer such a fate, but neither did she want to experience it. And I was not going to allow either of them to be raped.

“If you do not, then we will take the mother instead,” he said sickeningly, stroking the woman’s cheek with a finger as he held firmly to her chin.

“Oka-san!”

“You’ll pay for kicking me, you bastard!” The second man yelled. “I’m going to pound that pretty face of yours to the ground!”

Everyone immediately took another step back with a rippled yelp as the second man charged at me.

“Ack! Shit!” I cursed. From my peripherals, the third man drew his sword and let go of the mother, flinging her back into the crowd.

I fell into a stance, my mind working furiously to work out how I was supposed to protect the girl behind me and fight at the same time.

“_Although you are not physically strong, you have impressive reaction times and great speed,” _Makoto told me a while ago. _“When faced with a stronger opponent, you must find a way to use their strength against them.”_

My jaw clenched. Normally in this kind of situation, I would simply move out of the way at the last minute and strike him from behind. I used similar tactics in the playground games I used to play with friends in the past – minus the striking bit. But I was protecting someone behind me, so I could not use that.

I made a split second decision at the last moment just as the second man swung his healthy arm for a punch.

_Use his momentum against him!_

I jerked my head to the side and moved, enough to make the girl behind me also move in the direction that I wanted. I caught his fist and swung him around with his momentum, forcing him to stagger ungracefully around me and the girl, until I released his hand and he collided with the third man. Clearly the third man had not been expecting some ‘pretty boy’ to actually counter.

A murmur went through the crowd as the three men groaned on the ground. A few courtesans giggled at the humiliation. My heart hammered away.

_What the heck? _I thought in dismay. _I put down three men in barely five minutes. I’m still a newbie fighter!_

The third man glared at me. “You . . .!” In a split second, his hand flashed out and something glinted in the light. He threw a small dagger. I had no time to react, let alone register what it was until a hand flashed out in front of my face and caught the blade.

Everyone gasped, and my eyes widened. A tall man stood beside me.

“Akechi-sama!” They exclaimed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he sighed under his breath, tapping the flat of the blade against his cheek. “What is this terrible commotion?” He flicked his fingers and the small dagger had imbedded itself in the ground next to the third man. His cheek was bleeding. I did not even notice the blade move.

“Get out of my sight!” Mitsukuni said sharply. “Otherwise you will have more than a cut cheek, broken wrist and unconscious comrade.”

The two men scrambled to their feet, hoisting the third between them and stumbled away as quickly as they could.

Mitsukuni cast his gaze around the crowd and immediately they shuffled. “Let’s get back to work. The problem is solved,” he said, and to my relief, the crowd dispersed.

Despite that relief though, I frowned at him. “You are going to let them get away? They should be whipped!”

Mitsukuni glanced at me with a quirked eyebrow. “Whipped?” He repeated in amusement. “I did not think that you of all people would have such a strict mind.”

I scowled. “What is that supposed to m –?”

“Oka-san!” The girl cried again, leaping into her mother’s arms and they wept together, sinking to their knees. I looked on them with sympathy and smiled gently, crouching down to give off an air of gentleness.

“Are you both all right? Are you hurt?” I asked them

They shook their heads and the mother prostrated herself on her knees to bow low. “Thank you very much!” She exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and tears. “Chiyo! Thank the young Lord and Akechi-sama!”

The daughter followed suit with her mother, bowing low and managing to stammer out a thanks of gratitude through her hiccups.

I laughed softly. “I am not a Lord. And I am glad you are both alright.” I stood and the two looked up at me and Mitsukuni.

“But, you look –”

Mitsukuni patted my shoulder. “He is a new recruit of mine. Osamu-san.”

My eyes flashed to his in alarm. He just smiled back with an underlying intent to keep my mouth shut. I obeyed.

“Thank you once again, Akechi-sama, Osamu-dono!” The mother thanked. “We will never forget your kindness!”

Mitsukuni shooed them away, leaving the two of us, and two of his guards, alone on the busy high street.

The guards were two that I knew and they nodded at me appraisingly. “You did well, considering you’ve only been training for nine months,” one of them said.

“Indeed,” Mitsukuni agreed.

I quickly turned to him and bowed. “Thank you, Akechi-sama, for coming when you did. If not then I may be blind in one eye now.”

He chuckled. “While I am the Lord of the manor and this town, it is my duty to protect everyone under its roof. Later on in the future though, you will become quick enough to dodge an arrow or even catch a flying knife.”

I shivered, not wanting to ask how I would practice for that. Would someone be firing arrows and knives at my head to see if I could dodge them?

_Surely not, _I tried to tell myself. _That is stupid._

“Why did you give me another name, Akechi-sama?”

“I will explain that as we walk back. Have you gotten everything you need?”

“Oops, no not yet,” I said hurriedly. “I came out specifically to buy something for Mitsuhide-sama.”

“Something for my son?” Mitsukuni questioned curiously, following behind me as I headed back to the mochi stall.

“Yes, Akechi-sama,” I said, mulling over the dozens of different flavours. “You will not do it here as it is not an Asian thing, but where I come from, it is a tradition to celebrate the anniversary of one’s birth by giving them a gift.”

“Really? How strange,” Mitsukuni sounded interested. “What sort of gift?”

“Anything that that person likes,” I suggested, picking four mochi in the end. Two were black sesame and the other two were green tea.

“Astonishing,” Mitsukuni said. “You even picked two of his favourite mochi. We do not buy much and if we do, then it is not those flavours as they’re always sold out.”

I paid the stall owner, wincing as the precious coins were passed from my fingers to his open hand. With one last glance at the red bean mochi as that was one which I liked best, I turned and walked back to the castle with Mitsukuni, remaining half a step behind him. One of the guards walked in front, while the other was behind.

“How do you know that Mitsuhide’s date of birth is today?”

“It is recorded in history. Probably not as we do in my time, but historians have managed to work out the exact date by comparing others and analysing history.”

“Hmph. Do you know mine?” Mitsukuni sniffed.

I gave a wry smile. “Unfortunately not. I only know that you were born in 1497, which was around forty-one years ago, meaning that you are either forty or forty-one.”

Mitsukuni chuckled. “Ah, I am growing to become an old man.”

“Hardly,” I scoffed. “You still look like a man in his mid-thirties.” I glanced at him in suspicion. He definitely looked younger than what he actually was. How was that?

“Thank you for that compliment, Aki,” he mused. “Which now brings me back onto the previous topic. You asked why I gave you another name.”

I tensed.

“You came to us through unusual circumstances,” he said to me quietly. “And Aki is now your personal name. That should be a personal name which only your closest aides know you by. You need an official name, one which can be used in all situations and also to keep others from getting too close to you. The times that you have gone out nowadays, you have been dressed as a man and I think that will be a very fitting disguise for you in many cases.”

Silently I mouthed an ‘oh’ of understanding, which was then followed by a burst of giddiness. So Aki was now my secret name? And I now had another?

“Osamu, then? It certainly sounds a bit more boyish. What does it mean?”

Mitsukuni scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I thought up of it on the spot as it suited what you said just a moment ago about whipping those men. _Osamu_ means ‘study’ and ‘discipline’. As someone of great intelligence, it suits you well.”

I blinked and felt my face turn red at the compliment. “Thanks . . . I guess . . .” I trailed off. “What about a family name? Or am I Osamu Aki?”

Mitsukuni hummed in thought. “Well, to be honest, I have been considering of perhaps adopting you into the Akechi clan.”

I tripped and dropped the wrapped up mochi. Mitsukuni caught it before it fell while I recovered my footing. He plopped the little package back into my hands, while I stared ahead of me, stunned at what he had just suggested.

Become an Akechi?

I could not believe my ears. Not even a year had passed yet since I came to them!

“It is just a thought,” Mitsukuni continued. “And it will remain just a thought unless you can prove over time that you are loyal to my clan and my clan only.”

Astonished, I followed Mitsukuni back to the manor in a stunned silence. It would be a dream come true if I could become a member of the Akechi. It would be an honour.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I was still considering what it would be like to become an Akechi as I made my way towards the dojo. It was an incredible prospect that Mitsukuni had suggested barely a few hours ago.

_Me! Become an Akechi! _The thought made me grin smugly. It took a huge amount of effort to wipe it off as there was never any certainty in anything. For now, it was just a thought as Mitsukuni said. But what if it became more than a thought?

The clack of bamboo katanas brought my attention back. I made my way around the edge of the dojo until I found a break where the screens were parted, and climbed up onto the veranda silently. Leaning against the edge of the screen, I watched with a faint smile as Mitsuhide trained with Makoto.

The two fought a mock duel. A third acted as the referee, and a few other students between nine and twelve years of age watched.

Makoto was of course the superior. However, Mitsuhide’s skill was incredible and I found that my eyes were glued to his young form, watching him strike with deadly speed and frightening accuracy. No child should be able to fight with such skill at such a young age. Yet Mitsuhide did.

Each strike of the bamboo katanas rang out through the dojo. Mitsuhide struck with strength, parried with certainty and stepped lithely.

Certainly within six or seven years, I had a feeling that Mitsuhide would already be remarkably skilled with the katana. Seventeen was a big time for him, as it would be the time that he would become engaged to Tsumaki Hiroko, and he would join the Saito and begin his duty as administrator of Mino and become an officer.

I did wonder though. In recorded history, he was remarkably good with a firearm, and he was better wielding a spear than he was with a katana. He was also supposed to have gone bald early in his life. I rather hoped that he would not, for he was an attractive boy, and it would most likely carry on into his adulthood.

Even though he would become a strong man in the future, for now, he was still a boy, and that boy lost his bamboo katana as Makoto twisted it from his grip, sending it flying through the air to land behind him. Makoto tapped his bamboo katana to Mitsuhide’s mask.

Student and teacher removed their masks and Mitsuhide bowed in respect, breathing deeply from the exertion and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“You learn extremely fast, Mitsuhide,” Makoto said, handing his katana and mask to the referee and he began to pull off his gloves, indicating that the session was finished. “Soon enough, you will surpass me.” He turned to his other students. “Now be off with you! Reflect on today’s session and strive to do better. That includes you as well, Aki.”

I winced and pulled a face. The others laughed and I smiled back.

“Yes, Makoto-sensei,” I said, bowing as a man would for that was what I was supposed to be at the current time. “I will be the best female student you will ever have.”

Makoto grunted. “That is a confusing statement, coming from one currently dressed as a man.”

The students and the nearby guards chuckled. It made me feel content that I was beginning to really fit in. Nothing could replace my real family, but in the meantime, the Akechi and its members were my family.

Mitsuhide came over to me, wiping his face and neck with a towel. “You distracted me, Aki-senpai. That is why I lost,” he said, trying to sound dignified.

“Did I?” I asked rhetorically. “I do apologise for that,” I said, allowing him to keep his pride. I held my hand out to take the used towel.

“I am going to get myself cleaned up,” he announced, dumping the towel in my hand and marched away.

I snorted under my breath. He had his flaws, but Mitsuhide was certainly a very lovely child. I wished that he could stay like this forever, never growing up to become an officer and then a General under Nobunaga, never being led to betray his Lord and then dying thirteen days later.

For now, I would keep him on the path that followed the history that was already written for him. But I would also protect him.

Promises were not something I made for I could never be sure that I would keep them. However, I kept to my word. Protecting Mitsuhide until I died or returned to the twenty-first century was something I intended to carry out until the end.

* * * * *

Mitsuhide felt much better after he had cleaned himself of sweat and took off his kendo uniform. He walked back around the dojo to head back to the manor, expecting a guard to be waiting for him. Instead, it was Aki.

She had her arms crossed and hidden within the sleeves of her haori and she watched a raven within the trees. Her expression was faintly sad.

Mitsuhide paused, for she had not noticed him yet. A small pang of guilt struck him and he winced, puzzled at this new feeling within his chest. Aki had come to them from another world, brought here by a Tengu, Kitsune and snake Yokai. He never noticed or even considered that she probably still thought about going back. In the short space of time she had been here, Aki had become as much of a member of the family as him almost. The prospect of her going back was saddening.

He did not want that. He valued her company for she listened and talked with no limits. Mitsuhide could actually say what was on his mind without feeling afraid or embarrassed that his thoughts would be scorned, as they would be if he spoke to his mother. A female maid would simply not understand nor respond to whatever conversation he was interested in.

She was unique and interesting, especially with her new interest for cross-dressing. He had to admit, dressing as a man really suited her. Although she was short for a man in his family, she was a good height amongst the normal folk.

The raven squawked, flapped its wings, and flew away. Aki’s head turned to follow it and he noticed the jade dragon hanging from her leather hairband. Her hair was quite long now.

“If you wore a katana, you would look like a Lord,” he said, walking towards her again. She looked back at him and her eyes brightened. He liked the way her eyes brightened upon seeing a familiar face. No one else had that openness to their expression.

“You are the third person to say something like that today, Mitsuhide-sama,” she said, tapping her chin with a frown. “How can I possibly look like a Lord?”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “More like a noble maybe. Your girlish features make you look like a graceful man.”

“Hmph, hardly,” she harrumphed before muttering something under her breath that was in the language she called ‘English’.

Mitsuhide frowned at the foreign words. He burned with curiosity to understand what she was saying when she spoke in her native tongue. Often though, she did not elaborate.

“Anyway,” she suddenly said, pausing to pull something from her sleeves. It was a small package and Mitsuhide’s eyes were glued to it immediately with interest. “You are ten years old today, so happy birthday, Mitsuhide-sama! This is a little gift for you.”

He blinked, taken aback and he hesitantly took the little package from her. “Happy birthday? What is that?”

She held up her finger and began a small lecture. “Where I come from, it is a tradition to celebrate the anniversary of one’s birth by giving them a present. It is a way to say that we are glad that you were born, because if you were not born, then we would never have met.”

Mitsuhide felt his face turn warm at the kind gesture. “What a strange and silly tradition,” he mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Aki held up her hands and sighed. “My opinion exactly. But now that my birthday has passed, I find myself wishing for that tradition, even if it did always irritate me. Because within it are gestures of warmth and kindness, filled with happy smiles and laughter.” Her tone was tainted with regret. “So every year, on this day, I will give you a little gift, Mitsuhide-sama.”

Mitsuhide gazed down at the gift. “Why do you show me this kindness? It is not as if I have done anything for you.”

“On the contrary, Mitsuhide-sama, you did something for me right from the beginning,” she said softly. “You will not understand it yet, but one day you will.”

Mitsuhide was left speechless. Indeed, he did not really understand what Aki meant, but he had the feeling that she was grateful to him and that this act of charity came from her heart. He was so caught up in the moment that he did not even notice someone else approaching.

“Aki!”

Both of them jumped and Aki’s expression fell. Mitsuhide glanced over her shoulder to see his mother standing on the veranda of the outer manor.

“What on earth are you wearing, child?” She demanded and Aki turned around meekly. “You are a woman! Not a man. You should be wearing clothing fit enough for a woman with your grace. Now come with me and I will change you into something that you should be wearing.”

He swallowed his laughter which threatened to explode from him. Aki’s shoulders sank and she followed Lady Akechi into the castle, leaving Mitsuhide alone. So he wandered over to the veranda and sat on the edge, eager to open up this little gift that Aki had left him with.

Mitsuhide unwrapped the first layer of cloth and found to his amazement that the jade tiger was within. He picked it up and stared at it, feeling strangely warm and fuzzy within his body. Had she noticed that he had taken a liking to it? Was that why she asked him which one he liked better? So that she could give him one?

His eyes felt moist and he blinked furiously. To distract himself, he opened up the rest of the package, revealing four mochi inside: green tea and black sesame – two of his favourites. His family, the servants and the maids did not spoil him enough to buy these treats for him.

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Something must have flown into them. He picked one up and took a bite. His expression melted as the flavours and textures caressed his tongue.

* * * * *

Mitsukuni sat in an isolated room with his two brothers.

“Mitsuhide will become a superb Pureblood,” Mitsuyasu said dully, as if stating the obvious. “It is as if the might of the Minamoto – our ancient ancestors – have chosen him as their avatar. Indeed, truly worthy of being the Heir of the Oni.”

Mitsuhisa chuckled. “The Akechi will no doubt become great when he becomes head of the clan.”

Mitsukuni raised an eyebrow. “Oi, I will still be here for quite a while yet.”

“Yes, yes, Nii-sama,” Mitsuhisa said lightly.

“Besides, we are laying low for the time being,” Mitsuyasu reminded the youngest brother. “Becoming a large power is not a brilliant idea, nor is it in our nature. Though I guess we could, considering we are Purebloods.”

Mitsukuni grunted. Indeed, they could become a greater clan power such as their neighbours the Imagawa, or greater. Instead though, they served the Toki at Nagayama castle.

“Do you think our Superiors may give us a hint as to why they sent Aki to us?” Mitsuhisa pondered aloud. “I hope it is to serve and aid us. She has become quite a part of the clan. And that knowledge of hers is invaluable.”

“Her skills in martial arts and kendo are developing satisfactory,” Mitsuyasu stated.

Mitsukuni looked thoughtful, thinking of the incident in the town earlier today. He frowned in worry, recalling her expression.

“I think she may be a Seer,” he suddenly said. His brothers stared at him, before Mitsuhisa burst out laughing.

“That is quite a serious assumption, Nii-sama,” he chortled. “No human is a Seer, unless they have some demonic blood within them. Aki is pure human.”

“We are already aware that she knows what is to come,” Mitsuyasu said flatly. “She is from the future. You cannot call her a Seer for that as it is not actually a natural gift within her.”

Mitsukuni shook his head. “No . . .” he trailed off. Perhaps it was too soon to judge. However, Aki was more than what met the eye. His instincts were hinting at it. They had been hinting since she told him of Mitsuhide’s fate, because something else had crossed her expression back then.

She was also sharp. Back in the town he could see her begin to puzzle over why he looked younger than his age.

“Aki!”

They all heard Lady Akechi’s shrill shout.

“What on earth are you wearing, child?”

Mitsukuni snorted in amusement. “Oh dear. I wonder what my wife has in store for our newest recruit.”

He then moved onto the topic of Aki’s possible adoption into the Akechi clan. What would his brothers think of it?

* * * * *

I sat obediently as the maids fussed about me.

“A woman must be dressed in the finest clothing and painted with the highest quality make-up,” Lady Akechi lectured. I was dressed in a long kimono of stunning colours and embroidery, donned in a long haori that completely covered my hands and came down to my feet. The maids brushed my hair and powdered my face. It was most likely the first make-over I had ever had – aside from my figure skating competitions seven years ago, but that did not really count.

“Someone such as yourself should really be behaving as a noble, enhancing your features through clothing, embroidery, appearances and obedience,” Lady Akechi continued before she then sighed. “My husband and brothers-in-law think differently.”

_Thank heavens for that! _I thought silently. There was no way I could ever live as a woman in these times. It was so restricting, so boring! But I did like the idea very much of not having to study, and just sitting around ordering people to do this and that. I could be left alone to my thoughts, uninterrupted by the chaos of everyday life.

I could actually write a book with my time – which I currently had little of, still. It was taken up by teaching Mitsuhide swimming and my own learning of kendo and martial arts.

It seemed like no matter which era I was in, there was still no blasted time to do the things that I wanted to do – sit around, think, write, and enjoy food.

_I would be fat if that ever happened though_, I thought warily, relieved that I had a naturally fast metabolism.

“Done,” the maids announced softly and withdrew back. They looked on me appraisingly and I leaned back slightly, worried about what I looked like.

“Stand up, Aki,” Lady Akechi said, sounding eager despite her serious manner. Apparently I was the daughter that she never had. So now that I was here, she would not miss the opportunity to dress me up. What if I looked like a clown though?

I stood and Yuko approached me with an open box in hand. An extremely old-fashioned (by my standards) mirror lay within, face down. I began to reach for it when a faint knock came from the screen behind.

“Come in, Jubei,” Lady Akechi said.

_Mitsuhide-sama?_

The screen opened and Mitsuhide was on the other side. “Forgive my interruption Haha-ue. I just . . .” he trailed off and stared at me. I watched the recognition come a bit late to his dark eyes which widened.

“Is it bad, Mitsuhide-sama?” I asked him with amusement.

Lady Akechi scowled at me. “Of course not!”

Mitsuhide’s face turned red. “Nevermind!” He said quickly, slamming the screen shut. I blinked at the sudden reaction, before taking the mirror and looking at my face.

“Oh my goodness!” I exclaimed. “I have never worn so much make-up! How am I going to get this all off?”

The maids giggled. “Mitsuhide-sama is so innocent. That is the first time I have seen him blush!”

I turned to them.

“Even someone as young as him will be able to understand the concept of beauty,” Lady Akechi said proudly, standing and circling me with analytical eyes and nodding approvingly.

I gaped at her. “Beauty?”

“Of course,” Lady Akechi said simply. “All girls are truly beautiful when dressed like this. The clothing enhances the elegance that is already present. The make-up refines the beauty which is already there.”

I looked away sharply, biting back what I wanted to say and said it in my head instead with bitterness.

_I am not beautiful._

No one had ever said that I was ugly or plain. My friends had praised me for my figure which they would ‘die for’ as they had said. But I had never had a boyfriend, nor ever been asked out on a date. Often I had looked on other girls with envy, sometimes wishing that I could perhaps be in a relationship as well, wondering what was wrong with me to make the boys avoid me when it came to relationships.

Was it because I was too conservative? Was I ugly? Dull and boring?

Oddly enough, it no longer bothered me much, because I had never taken much of an interest in any boy anyway. There was only one boy I had really liked when I was eleven. But he already had a girlfriend. It took me three years to get over him, and once I had, I just lost interest. Or gave up, rather, all together.

Was I just waiting for _the one_?

Being told that I was beautiful though always stung. I was not sure why. I guess it was just a reminder that, now being nineteen, I had yet to be in a relationship, which was a jaw-dropper in the twenty-first century. Even here in this day and age, a woman who was nineteen would have been married by now.

I looked back down at my kimono and long haori. Even I had to admit that what I wore was beautiful, and it made me feel warm to be dressed like this. Maybe I did look pretty to some extent?

“You will still look young in the years to come, so I wonder how Jubei would respond when he grows older?” Lady Akechi mused.

I blinked, not expecting Lady Akechi to suggest a match between Mitsuhide and I. Gulping back down my laughter, I shook my head.

“There is a ten year gap, not to mention that he will definitely find someone more suitable,” I said.

Tsumaki Hiroko was his wife in recorded history. She was two years younger than him and together the two of them had a daughter called Tama, later on known as Gracia. It was said that the two had a harmonious relationship and that he cared deeply for her.

It was something which _had_ to happen, because Gracia was the ancestor of Empress Shoken.

“So?” Lady Akechi fired back. “The age gap would not make a difference. Alas though, if you were my daughter, I would have married you off to a fitting man a few years ago.”

“Gyaa,” I croaked. Being brought up in the twenty-first century, marriage was not something I wanted to consider for another five years at least.

Mitsuhide would certainly marry Hiroko. But it was also said that he had another wife.

“Akechi-sama,” I suddenly asked. “Do you have a younger brother? Yamagishi Mitsunobu?”

Lady Akechi paused her circling and peered at me. “Yes. Why?” She did not ask how I knew, because she would already know that I came from the future.

“Does he have a daughter, Yamagishi Chigusa?”

Lady Akechi raised an eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, he does. She is my niece, the same age as Jubei.”

My legs felt weak with a faint sense of relief. Chigusa was actually Mitsuhide’s first wife, though it was never confirmed. She was said to have been born with incredible beauty and a charming wit, but was thoroughly ignored by her fiancé.

When I had read about her, I felt awfully sorry for the young woman, for she was actually in love with Mitsuhide, yet he spent most of his time with Hiroko. It was said that she forced him into a room, confronted and admitted her feelings for him. He rejected her, but apparently after that, they reconciled to some extent.

I wondered if it would happen.

“Why do you ask, Aki?”

I kept my expression schooled. “It is unimportant. Forgive me for asking, Akechi-sama.”

Although much of the main events in Mitsuhide’s life would not happen for many decades yet, there was still a lot about to happen within a matter of years. How would things turn out? Would history follow its original route? Or would it spin off in another direction that was beyond my control?

**1538 September**

_It was dark. Clouds flitted past the waxing moon. The trees barely swayed. All seemed peaceful, but it was most certainly not. The atmosphere was heavy with the desire to kill and the scent of blood permeated the air._

_I knew that this was a dream, for I watched it unfold before my eyes. I was a shadow that whispered between the darkness of the trees, keeping up with the fleeting figures that swept through the trees in the night._

“_Damn it. Do not let Akechi escape! Kill him for taking my eye!” A figure snarled from the background. I turned my attention to it and found that it was a tall man. A bandage was wrapped around one of his bleeding eyes, while the other eye glowed an eerie red._

_I flinched slightly upon seeing that, before the dreadful realisation occurred to me that all of these figures had glowing red eyes. There were horns on the sides of their heads, and they moved with inhuman speed. Their fingers were clawed and their sharp nails were bloodied._

_They were Oni._

_My awareness followed them and sped towards the front of the pursuit. A familiar figure darted between the trees, long hair hanging about him in rags and his red eyes glowed from behind that dark curtain. He ducked behind a tree trunk and grasped the hilt of his sheathed katana._

_His expression was unreadable, but I recognised his face nonetheless with a shock._

_This Oni, this man, was Akechi Mitsukuni._

_He stepped out from the trunk and swiped his katana across, slicing in half an Oni, as well as a tree, with one swing. I gasped at the demonic speed and strength._

_Mitsukuni swept around and sliced three other trees, and the three pounded to the earth, rattling the ground beneath and forcing the pursuing Oni to come to an abrupt halt for a moment. The Akechi Head leapt over the fallen trees, pouncing higher than any human could, making it seem as if he could fly, and he landed on the other side with a swish of his katana, decapitating the closest Oni to him. Blood exploded from the headless stump like a _ _crimson _ _waterfall. _

_The surrounding Oni snarled viciously and pounced on him at once, and I watched in amazement as the greatest fight I had ever seen unfolded before my eyes. He moved in dizzying and confusing spins, his katana lashing out as fast as lightning and with the strength of thunder. Mitsukuni dodged, countered, and killed without mercy. One by one, the Oni fell around him._

_However, they put up a good fight, drawing blood from Mitsukuni and he was forced to move back in order to gain more ground. A figure stepped beside me and I turned my awareness to it. The same man who had given the command a moment ago stood next to my shadow._

_I shied away from his tall figure. He projected a presence of such incredible power and _ _intimidation_ _. It was nothing like the other Oni. He held an aura of frightening superiority, making me feel like an ant that could so easily be squished between his fingers._

_Yet, he was not the only one who held that incredible presence. Mitsukuni possessed something similar within him._

_Awed fear seeped into my heart. Was this . . . was this man really Akechi Mitsukuni?_

_The man beside me held something that was balanced on his shoulder. It was a firearm. Alarm flared within me. Firearms were not supposed to have been used much at all in Japan until 1543! And this man was aiming directly at Mitsukuni, who was too preoccupied with cutting down those that sought to kill him._

_Desperation exploded within me and I willed myself lucid, taking physical form in the dream. The mental energy required for that was catastrophic and I sucked in a breath of shock from it._

_The man next to me gasped and his eyes widened slightly. I kicked the firearm as he pulled the trigger. His aim went wide and the bang of the release boomed through the woods. The bullet struck another tree at a forty-five degree angle from Mitsukuni, whose eyes snapped to the man instantly._

_My physical body dissolved away into the shadows, leaving just my awareness behind to watch _ _again_ _. The Oni in front of me blinked in shock and anger, frantically looking about to see where I went. _

_Mitsukuni killed the last Oni and a Wakizashi leapt to his hand. He threw it at the Oni commander’s head, which jerked out of the way at the last moment, stabbing into the trunk behind. Mitsukuni closed the twenty metre distance between them in a flash, bringing his katana around for a swing. The Oni commander drew his katana and swung up. Both blades met with a teeth shattering clang and Mitsukuni’s strike was diverted up._

“_Even the shadows are sided with the Akechi?” The Oni commander grunted with a bitter smirk._

“_I am afraid I do not know what you mean, Hayato,” Mitsukuni said, cartwheeling back to avoid the Oni commander’s strike._

_He did not know that I was the one who just saved his life. He was not even aware that I had materialised or that I was the shadows that the _ _enemy_ _ referred to._

“_Our Superiors smile upon the descendants of the greatest Oni family of all time,” Hayato spat, striking with the same speed that matched Mitsukuni’s frightfully fast swipes and stabs. Which each clang, the ground seemingly shook and the air vibrated._

_These men were more than human._

“_It is about time the Minamoto line ended!” Hayato bellowed, slashing down. _

_Mitsukuni parried the strike which sent him skidding back through the undergrowth to crash back into a tree. The collision force was strong enough to crack the trunk in half. I flinched automatically. Such a force should have shattered his insides._

_Yet he ducked beneath Hayato’s stab and stepped with ease around his opponent. Terrible anger flashed in Mitsukuni’s eyes as he lashed out at Hayato, attacking faster and harder until he was a blur, leaving behind second images of himself from his demonic speed. Hayato matched him._

_I hovered behind Mitsukuni, praying that he would win. The fight swung in neither favour, until Hayato’s red eyes flickered behind Mitsukuni’s shoulders and looked directly at me. Shock flashed through them once again, and Mitsukuni took his chance, not leaving me any time to work out how Hayato managed to see me when I was just an awareness._

_Mitsukuni twisted Hayato’s katana from his grip, sending it flying overhead. Hayato could only stare, and Mitsukuni’s hand stabbed through his head. There was a sickening crunch as Mitsukuni’s hand completely penetrated Hayato’s skull and came out the other side, his fingers slick and red as if he wore a deep crimson glove. Goriness exploded from the back of the head to splatter across the nearby trees and undergrowth._

_Blood and the flesh of the brain dripped from Mitsukuni’s fingertips._

_Silence split the air._

“_This is what you get for trying to kill my son,” Mitsukuni whispered. He pulled his hand from Hayato’s mangled head, and the body collapsed to the ground._

_The fearsome Oni had been defeated by his equal._

_Mitsukuni swiped his bloodied hand down. “Any enemy of Jubei will be destroyed, whether it is by my hand, his, or another’s. I will not let you harm my son. The Heir of the Oni will ascend.”_

_I absorbed his words in silence. Heir of the Oni?_

_This was a dream. Mitsuhide was human . . . right?_

_Although Oni and Tengu and such were like any other legend of demons or angels in another culture, there was never any proof that such beings existed. If the Akechi clan were rumoured to be Oni, then would that rumour not be mentioned in history as some form of gossip?_

_I retreated. Mitsukuni stood alone, towering over Hayato. The Akechi _ _leader_ _ was bloodied in the moonlight, red eyes glowing eerily in the darkness._

_Despite the stab of fear, there was also marvel in the deadly beauty._

_The dream began to alter, jumping forward ten years. It was in the same place, the same kind of night, except I was in it, not just watching. I stood back to back with Mitsuhide, who was ten now, unlike the new-born he was in the dream just gone._

_We were surrounded by eight men. And they intended to kill us. Their weapons were drawn, while Mitsuhide and I only had a dagger each. It took everything in my power to keep my terror of the situation from controlling me._

_How could I possibly fight eight men? I was not skilled enough, and Mitsuhide was still a child. Together, we barely made one skilled samurai._

“_What do you want with us?” Mitsuhide demanded._

_The men did not sway, and one of them, the leader, answered. “We are here to finish our master’s work, ten years in the waiting. The Hayato clan will fulfil our mission.”_

_I tensed, recalling the scene of when Mitsukuni killed the Oni called Hayato. Was it real after all?_

_They attacked, and I sucked in a startled breath, countering the first attack that came my way. They were fast!_

“_Get away, Aki-senpai! They are too strong for you!”_

_Another attacked and I cartwheeled back, managing to miss the full swipe of the blade, but not enough as it cut across my shoulder. Before I had gained a good enough footing, a kick came at my torso, sending me tumbling back until I managed to turn that roll into a staggered step up and back. I struggled to breath from the force of the kick. It felt like some of my ribs were smashed in that _ _single blow_ _._

“_They are after you, Mitsuhide-sama!” I shouted, skipping away from speedy swipes that tried to decapitate me. “Akechi-sama killed their leader ten years ago because they tried to kill you when you were born!”_

_Mitsuhide’s movements jerked, as did the others, at my words. He took that opportunity to stab a man in the heart with a clean strike. The shock was evident on his face as the blade took the man’s life._

_It was the first time he had killed._

_My senses detected something behind me, but too late I reacted as a line of searing pain ripped down my back. I bit back a cry and stumbled forward, turning and throwing a shuriken behind me. It was pinged out of the way by the speaker’s katana._

“_How do you know that?” The man hissed. “No one was there to witness it!”_

_A new fear pounded in my heart from his reaction to my statement. Were they Oni then? But I was human! I could not fight these beings! Did Mitsuhide know that? Was that why he told me to get away, when I was far his senior in age and he was just a child?_

_My eyes snapped to him. He was not fighting as a human. His attacks were as fast as lightning, like his father, and each stroke of his dagger drew blood. The expression on his face was not that of a little boy._

_My attacker swung again and I let my left foot slip forward, dropping me beneath his blade and I struck out, cracking his patellae and he staggered back. It gave me an opportunity to skip back further, until chains wrapped about my ankles and landed me on the ground._

_Another attacker leapt in the air, ninjato drawn back and the blade glinted in the moonlight. Dismay and despair flitted through me._

I’m going to die now?!

_The blade descended, my jaw clenched and my heart screamed._

_A small figure darted in front of me and slashed the attacker to the side. I blinked._

“_Don’t touch Aki-senpai,” he snarled. His eyes glowed red, horns sprouted from the sides of his head, yet his hair had turned silver like moonlight._

_I stared at him. “Mitsuhide-sama?”_

_The leader of the group tsked under his breath. “Indeed he is the Heir of the Oni. He must die.” He stood back up and I watched in disbelief. I thought I shattered both his patellae?_

_Mitsuhide tensed, I swept myself back to my feet. Except, they all attacked Mitsuhide at once, while one held me back. Mitsuhide was losing._

_Desperation overwhelmed me and I did something stupid. I mimicked a part of Mitsukuni’s fighting in the previous dream, spinning with speed and my attacker’s strikes missed me to my amazement. They could have so easily stabbed me in the back, yet my mimic was lucky._

“_What?” He exclaimed. I used his surprise against him, and drove my dagger through his temple. He cried out, and fell._

_Despite the roaring pain of the slash down my back and being half blind from the blood that ran into my eyes from my head from another injury, I shoved the dead attacker out of my way and staggered forward._

“_What do I do? What do I do?” I gasped, struggling to keep my tears at bay. I was supposed to protect Mitsuhide, and yet right now, I was doing anything but that._

_I brought my shuriken to my fingertips and threw them at his attackers in a vain attempt to draw their attention from him. One of them looked my way, and Mitsuhide cut him down._

_Three dead._

_But that was his mistake. I could only watch in horror as the remaining blades pounced on him, too quick and too numerous to dodge and parry them all._

“_Mitsuhide-sama!”_

I jolted myself awake, sitting up and breathing deeply. The light was dim with early morning. The tatami room surrounded me, and the two other maids whom I shared this room with woke with a start.

“Is everything alright, Osamu-san?” One of them asked sleepily.

Since March, Mitsukuni had told everyone else to start calling me Osamu, to get into the habit of using my official name. I was still Aki, but Osamu was now the name that most people used.

I exhaled deeply, placing a hand over my face. “Just a dream.”

One of the older maids chuckled. It sounded more like a cough. “I used to dream quite often when I was younger. Now I have hardly any.”

I snorted softly. “That is both lucky and unlucky.” I felt cold though, from that dream. It was as if it showed me the past and the future.

The future . . .

My skin turned cold. I knew full well that Yokai and Kitsunes and the lot existed. But was it also possible that the Akechi clan themselves were Oni?

I recalled Mitsukuni and Mitsuhide in my dream. They were both Oni. The way they moved was not human. And that presence that Mitsukuni possessed . . .

“Are you feeling well, Osamu-san,” the older maid asked. “You look pale. Was it a nightmare?”

I pulled my attention back and smiled at her weakly. “I’m fine. Probably just need some food, that’s all. Besides, my nightmares are far more frightening than the dream I just had.”

The younger maid crawled from her futon to the screen and opened it a peak. “Seeing as it is already light, we may as well get up,” she yawned.

The older maid grunted as she stood. “Back to work,” she sighed.

I too, got up and changed, had something to eat, and was then back to training with Makoto. Yet I could not focus. The dream kept playing over and over in my head, leaving a feeling of stirring dread within my stomach.

“We will leave it there,” Makoto said after tapping his bamboo katana to the top of my mask.

I looked up at him, panting from exertion. “Makoto-sensei?”

He took his mask off. “Your mind is not here. You cannot focus. Come back to me once you have fixed this issue, otherwise I will not teach you. I will not teach someone whose heart and mind is not in their practice.”

My shoulders sank and I bowed in apology. Indeed, he was right.

It was a few days before I built up the courage and found Mitsukuni out in the stables, joking with the stable boys and patting his horse’s neck. Ruka was his mare’s name.

“Ah, Aki!” He exclaimed upon seeing me. “Ruka appears to be pregnant.”

I smiled in response to his jolliness at the good news. She was a beautiful horse, with a sleek grey coat and black mane and tail.

“Her offspring will be as fine as she,” I replied.

“Indeed!” He agreed heartily, stroking her strong neck. “Should you not be training with Makoto?”

I looked down meekly. “Makoto-sensei refuses to teach me until I have got my act together.”

Mitsukuni peered at me over Ruka’s back. His eyes then flickered to the stable boys. “Make sure she’s warm during the night and take her for some exercise every day. Keep her well fed,” he instructed them.

“Yes, Akechi-sama!”

He nodded, and then waved me to him. “Walk with me, Aki.”

I fell into step behind him and he walked us around the back of the manor and into the hills behind. The sloped ground was damp from the rain of the previous night. Trees were towering and thick with leaves that would soon begin to turn magnificent fiery colours with the onset of autumn. Birds sang beautifully, branches swayed and leaves and undergrowth rustled with the scurrying of small creatures within its cover. The air was fresh and clean.

This peace, this serenity, unpolluted by technology, was one thing I did not want to lose, despite my desire to return home still.

“You look troubled, Aki,” Mitsukuni said, softening his voice to match the gentleness of the nature around us. “You have been like that for a couple of days. You may think that no one notices, but some of us can see behind your mask.”

My eyes narrowed at his back, before glancing away at a bell flower which grew behind the trunk of another maple.

Bell flowers were the flower of the Akechi.

_He can see behind my mask, huh? _I thought silently. _So can Mitsuhide, even though that boy is so young still._

“What plagues your thoughts?”

I paused where I was and closed my eyes briefly, thinking of the dream. It was a dream of Oni and time, of battle, death and blood. Of strange prophecy and titles.

Mitsuhide and his white hair and glowing red eyes flashed into my head, followed by the moment he was nearly killed. Mitsukuni’s terrifying fight flashed before my eyes.

“Akechi-sama,” I said quietly, looking at him directly in the eyes. It was something that I should not dare to do to a Lord. But I did it nonetheless. He would not be able to escape my question.

“Who are the Hayato clan?”


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Mitsukuni was handed the parchment which already contained three signatures: Mitsuyasu’s, Mitsuhisa’s and Aki’s. He signed his part and then handed it back to his brothers. Mitsuhisa grinned as Mitsuyasu took the parchment.

“Congratulations,” he said merrily to Aki. “You are now the adopted daughter of our clan head, Mitsukuni. From now on, you are a full-fledged member of the Akechi clan. You will be known hence forth as Akechi Osamu.”

Mitsukuni glanced down at Aki. She was unable to hide her smile of joy which she struggled to keep under control. He clapped her on the back.

“Don’t hold back that smile, my _daughter_, Osamu,” he exclaimed. “This is a joyous day for us all.”

Her controlled smile grew wider as she let some of her control go. She bowed low. “Thank you very much for this greatest honour, Mitsukuni-sama, Mitsuyasu-sama and Mitsuhisa-sama. I shall strive to bring pride and honour to the Akechi clan.”

Mitsuhisa laughed. “And I do not doubt you, our _niece_. You have already earned a good reputation in this manor and town since you arrived over a year ago.”

Indeed, Aki had earned herself quite the reputation, even though she was not aware of it, judging from what Mitsukuni had observed. Everyone seemed to like her. And the incident where she stepped in to save that girl called Chiyo, had earned her a good name. She played with the children, she gossiped with the women, and discussed seriously to the men.

Aki was certainly a fascinating young woman, able to switch roles depending on the situation she was in. What was even more entertaining was that no one was truly able to tell what sex she was. Sometimes she was a man, other times she was a woman. The men in particular joked with her about it, the women dreamed, and the children could not care less.

“Jubei may be obliged to call you _Nee-san_ now,” Mitsukuni chuckled. “Considering you are now his older sister.”

Aki’s eyes widened slightly, before she laughed softly once. She shook her head. “Aki-senpai is good enough.”

Mitsuyasu grunted. “Let me just remind you that even though you are now one of us, and by law, the oldest child of the Akechi, we will not announce you as a successor to this clan.”

Aki nodded, serious again. “Yes, Mitsuyasu-sama. I have no intention of even suggesting such a thing. I have no interest in that kind of position.”

Mitsuyasu just grunted again and Mitsukuni snorted. “Aki has already agreed to those terms before we signed the documents. Jubei will still be the next clan leader after me.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Aki stiffen ever so slightly. A part of him darkened. He kept his bright smile though.

“You should go and find the others, Aki, and tell them of this good news. We will drink to our hearts’ content tonight in celebration!” He exclaimed.

Aki smiled awkwardly and bowed again in thanks, before shuffling back through a screen, closing it, and then the three brothers waited until her footsteps had faded from their keen hearing. The smile on Mitsukuni’s and Mitsuhisa’s lips faded with her footsteps.

“She knows of the Hayato . . .?” Mitsuhisa murmured.

Mitsukuni frowned at the tatami matting in front of him, thinking over what happened a few days ago. He had never felt as shocked as he did back then when Aki had asked him that question.

“_Who are the Hayato clan?”_

Being who he was, he was able to hide his shock, though he was not sure if Aki could still see behind his carefully controlled mask. He feigned ignorance, and had her tell him why she asked. And so she told him of her dream.

“Your suggestion that she may be a Seer could perhaps be true after all,” Mitsuyasu said.

Mitsukuni’s frown deepened.

“How though?” Mitsuhisa asked. “She has no Oni blood within her. Aki is most definitely a human.”

“Yet what Aki described to me is exactly what occurred ten years ago,” Mitsukuni said. “It was as if she was actually there, but she did not come to us until last year.” He paused in silence, thinking of the leader of the Hayato clan. It had puzzled him to no end as to how Hayato missed his shot, or why the Pureblood looked past Mitsukuni’s shoulder at the shadows behind him.

“_Even the shadows are sided with the Akechi?”_

Was that what Hayato meant? Had he been referring to Aki all along?

“It appears that she is no ordinary human,” Mitsuyasu said, his voice deep. “We must watch her closely – the woman from another time.”

* * * * *

I was in such a good mood for the rest of the day, having spent a large part of it with Lady Akechi, Yuko and other people of the manor. Lady Akechi was pleased, for she now had a daughter. It was dismaying for me, for nothing could ever replace my real family. But the Akechi were now becoming my family. And I was growing to love them all as such.

That evening, unfortunately, I was dragged along to drink with the Lords and some other men and women. The women served the drinks, while I had to drink, and I was incredibly glad that I was dressed as a man for that evening.

I was poured another small cup of sake and then downed it, gasping after I swallowed and fanned my face. The men roared with laughter.

“How cruel our Akechi Lords are, to make a pretty boy drink so much!”

Mitsuhisa grasped my shoulder. “I’m impressed, Osamu! You drink far better than I expected.”

I pulled a fowl face. Alcoholism was definitely not my thing. I did not drink alcohol much, compared to what the culture was in the UK anyway. If I did drink alcohol, then I drank rose wine, Bailey’s, or Mao Tai. Mao Tai was far stronger though than any of the alcohols I had tried. And infinitely stronger than sake. Sake was smooth when it went down. Mao Tai however, burned.

Unfortunately, I could not get up and leave, or simply stop drinking, for that would be considered rude. Therefore I had to bear with it, aware that later on, I was going to have a rough night and a painful morning. I reached the happy stage of drunkenness quite quickly, meaning that almost anything had me in stitches of laughter and soon enough, I had completely forgotten about the depressing knowledge of Mitsukuni’s approaching death and my unanswered questions about the Hayato clan.

* * * * *

The next morning, Mitsuhide walked along the veranda around the back of the manor. His face was expressionless while he thought about yesterday’s events. Aki was now a member of the Akechi family – Akechi Osamu.

Despite the thrilling events, he did not smile, nor was he too happy.

Aki was liked by all, with impressive combat abilities already, the height of a man, the grace of a dancer and with an authority that earned respect and could well make her a worthy leader. She was now his father’s adopted daughter, making her Mitsuhide’s senior, a Nee-san.

The eldest was usually the heir.

Mitsuhide walked around the next corner, keeping his hands tucked within the sleeves of his haori. September was warm, but early mornings always had a slight bite to them. He stopped when his gaze landed on the figure in front of him.

Aki, still in her night gown, was slumped against one of the wooden pillars. Her eyes were shut with dark rings beneath them, her skin was a sickly pale colour and her long hair was a catastrophic mess. Mitsuhide’s eyes widened in both concern and amusement. Her appearance now was a vast contrast to when his mother dressed her as a proper court-lady of noble birth. Just thinking about that made his cheeks burn.

_She was pretty._

He shook the image from his mind, pushing away the embarrassment that came along with thinking of that. Mitsuhide was not sure why he felt embarrassed.

“Aki-senpai,” he said, walking over to her.

She cracked open an eye. “Gwaaa . . .” It took a while for that eye to register, and when it did, the other also opened slightly.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” she croaked. He just looked at her. She stank of alcohol and she brought a hand up to her forehead. Her movements were clumsy and she ended up slapping herself in the face instead.

“So this is what a hang . . . over feels . . . like,” she mumbled. Aki managed to jab a finger at him. “Don’t let your . . . father and uncles . . . take me out drinking again.”

Mitsuhide smirked slightly. She was drunk when she came back last night. Now, it looked like she was sane again, but in obvious discomfort. She suddenly clamped her hands to her mouth and her shoulders heaved. Mitsuhide recoiled slightly, but he needn’t. Nothing came out and her body relaxed again with a deep breath. She groaned.

“Aki-senpai,” Mitsuhide said, his slight smirk fading. “Do you intend on taking my position as the next head of the Akechi clan?”

Such a feat would be impossible even if she tried. Because she was human.

Aki glanced up at him and narrowed her eyes. “What? No of course not . . . That’s stupid,” she said, running a hand down her face, more focused on her pounding head than on Mitsuhide’s question. “I don’t want any leadership position. Too much . . . responsibility. What I . . . want . . . is to go home . . .Ack, I swear to God, I am never . . . drinking again!”

Mitsuhide’s shoulders sank with guilt. Aki was difficult to read, but Mitsuhide could always read her one way or the other. And right now, she was being sincere, despite her bad mood.

“Do you mean that, Aki-senpai? Do you promise never to look for a position of power?”

“Hah? An accusation?” Her voice was suddenly loud with a hint of anger. “No one ever used to ask me to make promises before, and now everyone is suddenly wanting one from me!” She growled, trying to sit up straighter, using the pillar as her support. “First Mitsukuni-sama and now you, tch.”

“Aki-senpai.”

“Yes, yes, I promise,” she sighed in exasperation. “Now please leave me in peace,” she almost whimpered, slumping back down again with a green face rather than pale.

Mitsuhide stayed a moment longer, before he then sighed softly, and walked past his suffering teacher, hearing her heave again, except this time something came out with it. The young boy cringed in disgust and hurried away, hoping that such a thing would never happen to him. But he would grow into a man, and every man drank, therefore he would end up like his father and uncles – drinking for pleasure, laughing and joking, getting caught up in unsightly fights, vomiting, and resulting in a similar state to Aki.

However, as he walked away, he thought about his sudden demand. The sudden worry, doubt and jealousy he had felt upon Aki’s adoption into the Akechi clan, as Mitsukuni’s child, was undeniable. Perhaps he rushed to the wrong conclusion too quickly? He already knew that Aki was someone who was not interested in power or leadership.

He could not deny the happy feeling within him now that Aki was definitely a part of his clan. But what she had said just earlier sent a stab of hurt through him.

She wanted to go home.

His expression fell slightly. _I don’t want Aki-senpai to go_, he thought quietly.

* * * * *

Another week had passed. Even though everything had been so pleasant and joyous so far because of my adoption, I could not bury the growing unease within my mind. It was the last week of September, and Mitsukuni was still alive.

With all my heart I prayed that somehow the historical events would change. Maybe Mitsukuni would die later? Maybe he would live on for another thirty years or so?

I gazed up at the starry night sky, leaning against one of the pillars on the veranda. I had yet to change out of my day’s clothing, dressed as a man.

Softly, I exhaled. It had taken me a while to realise that the feelings in my heart and gut, no matter how faint, were always the truth-tellers. It was a harsh realisation. Most people would never realise it for as long as they lived, and that was probably better, because then they would not be burdened by this extra feeling which I could do nothing about.

How was I going to be able to stop Mitsukuni’s impending death? Or rather, how could anyone possibly defeat someone with such fast and frightening reactions and combat abilities?

I shivered. Hayato had abilities that rivalled Mitsukuni. The only reason why Hayato lost was because he was distracted by me.

With a depressed sigh, I cast a glance up at the waxing moon. A wispy cloud flitted past it.

_How nostalgic . . . _I though absentmindedly. I began to turn away when something caught my eye. Looking back into the darkness of the garden, I spotted a small figure moving silently with the shadows. With a frown, I narrowed my eyes and peered closer.

I made a small surprised sound when I realised it was Mitsuhide.

_Where is he going?_

Worry quickly replaced the surprise when I realised he was moving towards the back of the garden, swallowed by the shadows. I grabbed my sandals, tucked my feet into them, leapt off the side of the veranda and hurried into the shadows of the garden.

“Mitsuhide-sama?” I called quietly, glancing about me to see where he went.

A soft footfall caught my attention and I looked up towards the far wall. Mitsuhide’s silent shadow swept through the high branches of the trees, jumping over the wall nearby.

My chest tightened in dread. Where was he going?

Frantically I looked about at the lowest branches of the trees, found one and swung myself up into the tree, climbing nimbly up through the wooden veins and arteries of the trees. I ran along the branch that Mitsuhide used and jumped, letting the wind sigh by me as I leapt over the wall, and down the other side.

I landed with a soft grunt, before I picked myself up and dashed into the night. Mitsuhide, a ten year old boy, should not be out beyond the wall at all at this time of night. My doubts as to his true identity began to rise.

Oni were like vampires, if I compared the legends and myths correctly across the culture differences. They had inhuman strength and abilities, with glowing red eyes, lengthened canines, and drank the blood of other living creatures. They would go out at night to hunt.

Was that what Mitsuhide was doing? No child would even think of going out alone at this time of night. But if he was an Oni, like in the dream, then it would be alright.

I shook my head vigorously. _No. That can’t be true!_

Because if it was, then that meant that my dreams were also true. Even though Mitsukuni honestly sounded like he knew nothing about my dream, aside from sounding fascinated by it, I could not shake off the feeling in my heart.

What I saw was the past, and then second dream was the future.

I ran around the towering trees, letting my feet step lightly over the tangle of massive roots that were sprawled over the grassy ground. Moonlight seeped in through the gaps of the foliage above, like twinkling, translucent curtains of silver.

_Like Mitsuhide’s hair._

Up ahead, I spotted him walking on. I clenched my jaw. “Mitsuhide-sama!”

He did not turn around, as if he did not hear me. The boy did not even physically respond to my call and concerned dread pumped blood faster through my vessels. I picked up my pace, rushing up to him. Yet he moved surprisingly fast. Even though he was walking, his movement of speed was almost as if he was flying.

I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around to face me. “Mitsuhide-sama!” I panted.

His face was expressionless and he swayed slightly. My other hand grabbed his other shoulder and I went down on one knee, forcing him to look me in the eye.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” I repeated again. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re sleep walking!”

He blinked, his eyes met mine. “Aki-senpai,” he breathed. “There is someone calling me. It’s pulling me towards it.”

I breathed sharply. “Who is calling you?” I could not hear anything.

Then again . . . I was only human.

I froze at that thought. The faint breeze whispered, the trees barely swished, wispy clouds flitted past the waxing moon.

Nostalgia. This night was the same one ten years ago.

“What is it, Aki-senpai?” Mitsuhide asked, the tone of his voice changed completely.

_Impossible_, I thought with terrible remembrance. _It’s tonight?_

The dream replayed again and I reacted to the killing intent before I detected it. With a sharp breath, I yanked Mitsuhide behind me, drawing my dagger simultaneously and swung it diagonally up. Blade met another blade with a sharp ping, and the deflected throwing knife embedded itself in the trunk of a tree.

I heard Mitsuhide gasp behind me. “How? How did you react faster than me?”

My grip tightened around the dagger in my hand, and eight figures emerged from the shadows.

“I second that question,” one of the figures said. The moonlight fell on his face and it felt like I had been punched in the stomach.

He was the same man in my dream – the new leader to carry out Hayato’s last wish. Ice coated my skin.

Slowly, I rose to my feet. I felt Mitsuhide’s back press close to mine. Back to back. We were surrounded.

“What do you want with us?” Mitsuhide demanded. The ice cracked.

None of them swayed or responded to his demand. They were emotionless, surrounded in a twisted aura that was demonic.

The leader however, answered. “We are here to finish our master’s work, ten years in the waiting. The Hayato clan will fulfil our mission.”

I tensed, my eyes wide, unable to believe what I was seeing and hearing. This was the first time my dream had been accurate to the very last detail.

The dream played out in my head half a second faster than what happened in real life. They all attacked at once and I sucked in a startled breath. I saw the phantom shadow of the first attack, followed by the real one that came my way. My body moved with a mind of its own, following what I had already seen from the dream and using it to my advantage.

Stepping forward, I used the back of my hand to push the oncoming strike out of the way and swung my dagger up, cutting across the attacker’s shoulder. The attacker grunted with surprise, echoing my own surprise at how I moved because for the moment, I moved as fast as they did. Consciously I could not keep up with their speed. That was something I knew already from the dream.

The dream . . .

The horror in my heart gradually built. The dream was real after all.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The realisation of what that meant, hit hard. The dream was real. Everything I had seen was real. The past had happened, and the future was about to happen.

My quick counter was countered and I was thrown overhead, only to somehow flip and land on my feet with a stumble. More attacked and a jolt of fear zapped through me. They were fast!

“Get away, Aki-senpai! They are too strong for you!”

I cartwheeled back, missing the full swipe of the closest blade, but I was not fast enough as the tip of it seared across my shoulder. My eyes widened at the pain, as well as what was going to come next. Staggering back, I turned that stagger into a backwards roll, missing the foot that was supposed to have kicked me in the stomach. I threw a shuriken at the one who should have kicked me. He seemingly vanished and reappeared again a foot from where he stood, letting the shuriken whistle past his face to embed itself into the trunk of a tree.

“They are after you, Mitsuhide-sama!” I shouted, skipping away from speedy swipes that tried to decapitate me. “Akechi-sama killed their leader ten years ago because they tried to kill you when you were born!”

Mitsuhide’s movements jerked, as did the others, at my words. He took that opportunity to stab a man in the heart with a clean strike. The shock was evident on his face as the blade took the man’s life.

It was the first time he had killed.

_I can’t believe this,_ I thought in dismay. _It is exactly the same as my dream. This is really happening._

In the dream, someone attacked me from behind and I was too late to react. This time, I knew what was coming. Spinning around, I raised my dagger. Blade met blade with another sharp clang, combining with one of the many clashes Mitsuhide was having with his opponents.

I found myself face to face with the leader of the group. He wore an expression of controlled anger.

“How do you know that?” He hissed. “There was no one there to witness it!”

My fears were confirmed and I felt the blood drain from my face. They were all Oni.

I jumped back and my eyes flashed to Mitsuhide. If Mitsukuni was an Oni, then that surely meant so was Mitsuhide. If the dream was correct, then Mitsuhide, like the rest of the Akechi family by blood, were demons.

Mitsuhide was not fighting as a human. His attacks were as fast as lightning, like his father, and each stroke of his dagger drew blood. The expression on his face was not that of a little boy.

He was slashed across the face and automatically, I jerked as if it had been me who had been cut. Yet to my shock and grim realisation, I watched how that cut healed over within a matter of seconds.

_Demon . . ._ my heart whispered silently.

The leader swung again and I let my foot slip forward, dropping me beneath his swing and I struck out against his knees, feeling the crunch as his patellae were shattered beneath my knuckles. He grunted and I spun, kicking him in the face and he fell.

Quickly, I scrambled back up onto my feet and away, jumping to avoid the chains – which in the dream caught me and landed me on the ground – that clinked beneath me as they were thrown. They caught around the small trunk of a tree behind me and I landed atop the chains, giving me the chance to run up them to the owner. There was no time to think about balance at all. I did gymnastics in the past, but nowhere near enough to get to the level of being able to walk on ropes at the lot. Martial arts training helped a lot.

I ground my teeth in desperation, bringing my dagger arm back.

Something hard slammed into me. There was a blur as the scenery rushed past my eyes, a stunned gasp, before I collided with what I could only describe as a concrete wall. There was a great crack, white light of shock flashed before my eyes, pain exploded throughout my body and the breath whooshed from my lungs.

I could not utter a sound as my lungs froze and my mind stopped working. I fell forward and whoever had crashed into me, grabbed my head and smashed it into the towering trunk of the tree behind me, again – it was not a concrete wall.

Dizzying agony ripped through my skull and for a moment, I blacked out. My dagger slipped from my fingers and the attacker cracked my head into the tree for a third time, before he let go of me. I slumped down against the tree, collapsing completely.

“You fight like one of us,” the attacker said, almost appraisingly. “Your speed and reactions are as fast as ours . . . or is it because you have Seen it all before?”

I could barely hear him. All sound was so muffled in my ears. My world spun sickeningly and with that crushing dizziness and agony, came overwhelming tiredness. I struggled to keep my eyes open, blinking slowly; I could barely see as white stars dotted my vision.

_Get up . . ._

From the corners of my narrowed vision, Mitsuhide was being backed against a fence of trees. Looming above me, the leader stood. Vaguely, I was aware of how surprised I was that his patellae healed so quickly. Vaguely, I sighed with weakness. The dream had gone astray.

“It is a pity, that I must take your life,” he said with faint sadness and raised his katana. “All those allied with the Heir of the Oni must die, including the rare Seers.”

There it came again, the same title – Heir of the Oni.

_Get up . . . get up!_

The moonlight reflected against his katana, the blade which would take my life. Faintly, I knew that I should have been afraid, yet I was not.

_What if . . . what if the only way to return home is to die?_ My mind wondered silently as I gazed up at the katana with half closed eyes, feeling my blood pulsate through my skull like a drumbeat.

_If I die . . . then can I go home?_

I had already been here for over a year. While I managed to keep my longing for home buried within the darkness of my heart, it was always there, always silently searching for a way to go back. Wearing my modern clothes and re-acting how I was brought to this world, did not achieve anything.

No matter how welcome I was made to feel, I did not belong here in this time.

The katana bit down.

But it did not stab.

A small figure appeared before me. His hair had been cut lose from its band and hung down his back. Instead of black, it was shimmering white like starlight. Horns protruded from the corners of his head, his skin glowed like moonlight and his clawed fingers swung his dagger up.

That swing shattered the leader’s sword upon impact, causing the leader’s descending arm to swing back with a startled grunt. The boy’s hands flashed out and his palms struck the leader’s chest, sending him skidding back into two of his followers.

“What the –!” He grunted.

“Don’t touch Aki-senpai!” Mitsuhide snarled.

I blinked slowly, struggling to raise my head. My tired expression distorted into one of pain as the throbbing of my body and skull intensified with the movement. My vision swam nauseatingly. Something warm was trickling down my face and the back of my neck.

_Ah . . . my blood . . ._

The leader regained his footing, analysing the hilt of his shattered katana. Half of me was horrified that Mitsuhide had been able to break a steel sword. Japanese swords were renowned worldwide for being the best made in the world. Yet, such a young boy destroyed the blade with one swing of his dagger.

“Indeed, you are the Heir of the Oni,” the leader announced darkly, throwing his broken katana away and his appearance changed. His eyes glowed red, the pupils narrowed to slits, horns sprouted from his head and his fingers elongated into claws. “That appearance, that aura, is that of the Heir.”

The others around him also changed their appearances, going from human, to Oni. The strength of their auras permeated the air. Their ancient power glowed in their eyes.

Mitsuhide tensed and he cast a glance back at me. His eyes glowed like theirs.

Faint dismay flitted through me. Indeed, he was one of them. He had an aura which was above even these terrifying Oni who sought to kill him.

My dream did not lie after all. These creatures did exist. And the Akechi family were a family of Oni.

_Descendants of the greatest clan of all time – the Minamoto . . . Were they Oni too then . . .?_

The feeling of hopelessness twisted my insides as I felt their killing intent spark as one combined force. Were we going to die?

I struggled to push myself up onto my hands and knees, breathing deeply. I could barely see as my world continued to spin. It was fine if I died. But I could not let them kill Mitsuhide. I made a promise to Mitsukuni.

Protect Mitsuhide!

My conscious began to slip away again and I screamed internally to keep my eyes open. However, my body could not obey my mind.

The attackers lunged, three in front, followed by one more, and then the other three behind that one. Mitsuhide flipped his dagger and I sucked in a broken breath.

Mitsuhide brought his dagger hand back, when a different black shadow flashed before him with immense speed. The shadow’s clawed hand smashed through the skull of the closest Oni, before drawing it back and letting the body fall. His foot met the torso of the second and even through my muffled hearing of waning consciousness, I heard the crunch of shattering ribs and the gasp as the heart was stilled by the violent impact. A katana sang as it was drawn, and pierced the heart of the third Oni.

Three Oni had been killed within a matter of seconds.

The remaining four leapt back warily as another terrifying aura joined the scene. I sat myself back against the tree, limp, and raised my bleeding head to blink in exhaustion. Blood trickled down the side of my face like tears – tears which were beginning to fill my already blurred eyes.

Mitsuhide gasped. I already knew what he would say.

“Chichi-ue!”

Mitsukuni held a katana in his clawed hand, standing in front of Mitsuhide and I.

“Once again, you people try to kill my son,” Mitsukuni said, his voice was like a sigh of the wind. “Except this time, you also try to kill my daughter.”

“Akechi Mitsukuni,” the leader said back tonelessly. “How incredible it is that the Akechi clan house the next Emperor of our race and a human Seer.”

I could barely stay focused. Emperor? Seer? What were they talking about?

Memories swam in the darkness of my mind, taking me back to when I was first brought into this world. The words of the snake yokai whispered in my ears.

“Save . . . the Oni Prince and . . . guide him . . .,” I echoed, barely audibly, hanging my head, staring at my lap through half closed eyes. My fingers twitched beside my legs.

A fragment of the reason why I was brought here, fitted into the jigsaw. There was a link. Heir of the Oni. The Oni Prince, later Emperor. Save and guide him.

Mitsuhide?

More figures emerged from the shadows of the trees and I felt my heart sink further. There were too many enemies. At least twenty of them surrounded us. Their crushing auras weighed heavily down on my shoulders like a physical force. I could not get up.

“Jubei,” Mitsukuni murmured softly. “Protect Aki. I will fight them.”

“But Chichi-ue! There are too many!” Mitsuhide argued back with a hiss.

Mitsukuni looked back at him and smiled faintly. “Will you leave her to die?”

Mitsuhide winced, looking devastated as he saw the choice between him. I raised my eyes to Mitsukuni and felt the tears build within my gaze. Even if he was a powerful Oni, like the frightening one I saw in my dream, could he fight off twenty Oni and protect two people at the same time?

Akechi Mitsukuni was said to have died sometime in September 1538.

He met my gaze.

_He is going to die . . ._ I realised in despair.

Mitsukuni’s gaze lingered. I knew that he knew what had crossed my mind. Yet, he smiled at me with acceptance.

In that instance, I realised that he knew everything. And he was not afraid of it.

That smile broke something within me. The man who I had come to look on as a father, was destined to die this very night.

The tears spilled down my cheeks. “No . . .” I croaked.

The other Oni and Mitsuhide looked between us, trying to understand what silent understanding had passed between us.

_: It’s alright, Aki_, his mental voice said gently.

Just as I had an almost psychic link with my real father, the same thing was happening with my adoptive father.

It is said that some lives transcend across time and space. Perhaps . . . there was some truth to that ancient statement.

Everything happened at once. Twelve lunged at Mitsukuni. Eight attacked Mitsuhide and I head on. A shuriken whistled for my head until Mitsuhide caught it between his fingers and threw it back. The Oni who threw it pinged it out of the way and another Oni beside him attacked Mitsuhide first.

An incredible battle ensued around me, one which I would have marvelled over, had circumstances been different.

Still I struggled to clear the sickening dizziness from my head and dull the pain within my body with my will. I was the only human here, so fragile and already injured to the extent that I could barely sit up, let alone stand. Pain roared through my skull. I did not even have the strength to pull my hand round to the back of my head to feel the damage done to my cranium.

Humans were so weak.

A small thread of anger sparked. Why did I have to be so weak, so fragile? I had to get up, get up and stop being a burden!

The Oni moved so fast they were a blur, leaving behind a breath of the wind with the speed of their passage. Blades clashed against each other, kicking up sparks upon meeting. Clothing was ripped, skin was slashed, blood was drawn. The air stank of its thick metallic aroma.

Mitsuhide and Mitsukuni fought in desperation, cutting their enemies down as they too, were slashed and cut.

I sucked in a breath and bit my trembling lip. I did not want Mitsukuni to die. I did not want him to die.

With colossal effort, I tried to stand. Agony split my skull from the movement and I bit back a cry of pain as my balance betrayed me. On my knees and hand, I brought my other to my pounding head. Stickiness coated my hand and I brought it to my face.

Indeed my head was bleeding badly, matting my hair. The smell was nauseating.

Somewhere not too far, Mitsuhide threw his dagger, decapitating two Oni, and his dagger stabbed into another tree. I could barely react as an Oni ran his clawed hand down his back, causing him to cry out and stagger forward.

Horror exploded in my body and for a brief moment, my focus clarified. Grabbing my dagger, I threw it, spinning past Mitsuhide’s head and plunged into the Oni’s eye, earning a scream of pain as he brought his hands up to his face, halting his attack against Mitsuhide.

Mitsuhide turned around immediately, pulling my dagger free and decapitating the screaming Oni. His head flew, landing with a heavy thump upon the grass, followed by the rest of the body. Its blood gurgled noisily from the stump.

The boy cast a glance behind him at me, wearing an unreadable expression, before he threw my dagger back to me and snatched his own from the tree it was stuck in, striking another Oni away who had turned his attention to me.

I blinked furiously, reaching out with a shaking hand for my dagger. With that burst of focus came a crushing wave of exhaustion afterwards. I was on the verge of blacking out again and I breathed deeply, desperate to keep my consciousness.

Two of the Oni left Mitsuhide to join their allies against Mitsukuni. Mitsukuni was cutting them down brutally, but he was slowing, and panting. He was on a different level to all of them, like Mitsuhide. But that was why the enemy fought just as desperately, just as fast and just as hard. It was the only way to even the playing field between whatever superior type of Oni Mitsukuni and Mitsuhide were, and the other Oni.

One by one they fell, and as they fell, so did Mitsukuni’s speed. Mitsuhide snarled violently as his remaining two Oni attacked both him and I simultaneously. One threw a shuriken at me and with a grunt, I swung my dagger up, smashing the flying star away from me and I staggered to my feet.

Pain had to be ignored. Dizziness had to be ignored. Lack of sight had to be ignored.

_Rely on my other senses – my intuition!_ I thought frantically through a syrup of sickening unsteadiness.

I tried to tighten my grip around my dagger, my breaths sounded like sobs. I blinked the blood from my eyes.

Next thing I knew. Mitsuhide plunged his dagger through the Oni’s back and through his heart. The Oni jerked with a gasp. The glow faded from his eyes as the life left him, before he collapsed to the ground in front of me.

Mitsuhide gasped for breath and I looked briefly behind him. He had killed that Oni so quickly. For such a young boy to be so . . . merciless . . . was truly frightening.

“Aki-senpai, are you –?”

His question was cut short as a shout drew our attention. Immediately we both turned to find Mitsukuni’s swing jerk back up, leaving his torso exposed. There were only four Oni left, including the leader whose ninjato pierced Mitsukuni’s chest.

“Chichi-ue!” Mitsuhide cried in horror, moving to his father’s aid as the man stumbled back, pressing one hand over his heart.

“No!” I grabbed Mitsuhide’s wrist. His head snapped around to face me. “You are not the one who is meant to die tonight,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“What?” He croaked, eyes widening in mortified disbelief.

Mitsuhide stared at me. Knowing the future was a curse.

That brief amount of time gave Mitsukuni the chance to kill the remaining Oni without his son getting caught in the middle. Three Oni fell dead, one of which had Mitsukuni’s katana embedded through his head.

The leader was all that remained. Mitsukuni darted behind the already exhausted Oni, grabbed his shoulder with one hand, and with the other, it punched through the leader’s back and out through the chest in bloody glory.

There was a beat of silence. The leader grunted. Mitsukuni held the leader’s heart within his clawed hand.

“Curse . . . curse y-you . . . !” The leader jerked, blood dribbling down his chin, with eyes glowing in dying anger.

Mitsukuni’s fingers clenched around the heart, and the beating organ exploded. The leader’s eyes lost its glow, and Mitsukuni pulled his hand back, casting the body away.

The sounds of fighting had been swallowed by the night. Dead bodies littered the ground and the air whispered between them, murmuring of secrets of the unknown. The moon watched silently in sadness.

Mitsukuni stood alone, covered in blood, like he had been in the dream, like he was ten years ago when he killed the leader of the Hayato clan.

He looked at us and smiled, a smile of exhaustion and apology. My expression fell.

Mitsukuni fell to his knees and Mitsuhide slipped his wrist from my grip, covering the distance between them in a heartbeat. The son caught his father before he fell completely, and laid him on his back.

“Chichi-ue,” Mitsuhide called, his voice was thick with tears.

I staggered over, and fell to my knees beside my adoptive father. My eyes filled with tears again as Mitsukuni blinked slowly.

“I am sorry, Akechi-sama,” I whispered, feeling the tears spill down my face.

He smiled faintly. “You knew . . . I would die tonight?”

I shook my head. “I only knew that you would die this month, for that was what is written in history. I prayed that it would not come to pass.” My whisper turned into a sob.

“Ah,” he breathed.

Mitsuhide’s hand pressed over his father’s chest. “Why are you not healing?” His voice wavered and his own tears began to trickle down his cheeks. “Even if we are stabbed in the heart, Purebloods will heal.”

It was Mitsukuni’s turn to shake his head with a tired sigh of sorrow. “That blade was coated with the blood . . . of another Pureblood,” he whispered.

Mitsuhide’s expression distorted into one of devastation.

As the glow faded from Mitsukuni’s eyes, so did his life.

“Aki . . .” he breathed quietly. “Do you remember your promise to me?”

A choked sob cracked through my lips. “Yes.”

Whatever tension was left in his body, evaporated away with that last word. Worry eased from his expression, leaving it silently content. The glow was almost gone from his eyes.

He raised his hand and touched his son’s cheek tenderly. His chest rose with his last breath.

“Jubei . . . my beloved son,” he murmured with a despairing smile. “I will watch over you.”

* * * * *

A week had passed. I could barely remember what happened until three or four days ago. The Akechi clan members came not too long after Mitsukuni died. They took his body back to the manor, and Mitsuhide and I were taken back behind him.

Mitsuhide was silent, as was I. Silent with shock and grief.

After we got back to the manor, I know that I passed out and did not wake until three days later, shocked to find how many bandages were wrapped around me, especially my head.

My head was still wrapped in bandages. I stared at my reflection in the pond from the stone bridge which arched across it. Carp swam lazily in the crystal depths, lurking within the shadows of the lily pads that floated atop the calm surface.

Grief was reflected back at me. This was the first time I had ever mourned.

My adoptive father was dead. The Akechi clan leader was dead. An Oni Pureblood was dead.

My reflection was broken as a drop of rain plopped into the waters, rippling the surface. The rain began to fall and I relived the meeting I had with the other Akechi Lords and Lady Akechi, the same day I had regained consciousness.

“_It is something we would have preferred to have not told you,” Mitsuyasu said deeply. “But given the circumstances under which you were brought to us, it was only a matter of time before you found out the truth.”_

_My eyes widened, momentarily taking my mind off the devastation and grief of Mitsukuni’s death. “Do you know why I was brought here?”_

_Mitsuhisa shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. What we will explain to you is something slightly different.”_

“_As you are aware,” Lady Akechi began. “This world consists of mythical creatures of legend like the Tengus, Kitsunes, Yokai and Oni. You were brought here by three of them. Those three are part of the highest ranking within the supernatural realm, called Superiors, for they are every living thing’s superior. _

“_Beneath them are the next highest ranking supernatural beings, called Purebloods, which is what we are. Both the Akechi clan and the Yamagishi – my clan – are Purebloods, which means that our blood has been untainted by human blood. Nowadays, we are rare. Because the Superiors barely show any influence within the physical world, the Purebloods have been classed as the highest amongst the Supernatural beings. However, the presences of our Superiors always hover in the background. _

“_And then beneath us are the rest of the supernatural beings with varying strengths. They are numerous in number, making the Purebloods seem like needles within a haystack.”_

_The other two men nodded in agreement. “The Akechi clan is descended from the Minamoto clan, which I am sure you know of as the clan who defeated the Taira clan in the Genpei War,” Mitsuyasu explained. “These two clans were also in fact legendary Oni clans of powerful Purebloods, classified as royalty even amongst Purebloods, and therefore as royalty amongst the Oni. The last Shogun of the Minamoto clan during the Kamakura Shogunate was said to be the Emperor of the Oni, with silver hair and strength that rivalled that of a Superior. Other Yokai may have silver hair, but Oni do not.”_

_My body tensed as I recalled Mitsuhide’s Oni appearance. Silver hair._

“_Mitsuhide has the same traits,” Mitsuhisa stated. “Although he is still as young as he is, already his Oni form has strength that is equivalent to that of a fully grown Pureblood like Mitsukuni. Therefore he is referred to as the ‘Heir of the Oni’, for he is the next Emperor of our race, the next one to resurrect the Imperial line of Oni and recreate the Kamakura Shogunate which fell from grace around two hundred years ago. Of course, the Shogunate, if ever made, will be known by a different name.”_

_I listened in silence. Mitsuhide, in my history, did succeed in becoming Shogun. But only for thirteen days, giving him the famous name – the Thirteen Day Shogun._

_Would it still be the same though, now that I knew that he was not human?_

“_Mitsukuni was under the impression that you may have been sent here to help Mitsuhide in some way with regards to his destiny as Heir of the Oni,” Mitsuhisa continued. “We were a bit dubious, until he told us of what you told him concerning the Hayato clan. It confirmed his suspicions immediately, as well as persuaded us.”_

_My dream flashed through my head, followed by the real events barely three days ago. It was like rubbing salt on a wound._

“_What your dream showed was correct. Ten years ago Mitsukuni fought another Pureblood by the name of Hayato Shinsui. His clan were allies of the Taira. And now, with the recent events, it has also come to our attention that you are a Seer, which is most unusual as Seers normally have some sort of demonic blood, yet you have none.”_

“_Whether your ability to see the future is true though is not of major importance,” Lady Akechi said. “It is a remarkable gift, or a dreadful curse. Nevertheless, it would be best if you remain keeping such a thing as a secret.”_

_I looked down. “Agreed,” I said quietly. _

“_You will also agree to keep our true identity a secret,” Mitsuyasu said. It was not a request, but an order. I nodded._

_Lady Akechi inhaled deeply. “Jubei will become the next clan head, but not until he turns eighteen. Until then, Mitsuyasu-sama and Mitsuhisa-sama will act in his place.” She then looked at me and her expression softened. “And once again, we thank you for protecting Jubei. Continue to train and act as his bodyguard, Aki.”_

The rain soaked into my bandages, hair and clothes. But I did not budge. The rain fell down my face like tears as the sky wept like yesterday when we buried Mitsukuni. It was now a time of mourning.

To my faint surprise though, I did not have an emotional break down like I was expecting. That was already something I had five years ago when my mother fell ill with leukaemia, and a year past when I first came to this time.

The carp swam, taking no notice of the rain pounding upon the surface of their pond. I became hypnotised by the water’s ripples as the words of my clan Lords and Lady sank in. It had been a great shock to discover the truth about them, as well as a frightening truth. It explained why for this time and age, they were bigger than the normal folk, standing at a higher height. For over a year, I had been living with Oni, creatures which thrived off the blood of other living things.

I shivered.

And yet, these monsters were the very same monsters that took me in a gave me a home, providing a shelter over my head, clothes to keep me warm, food to fill my stomach, and friendship to chase away the loneliness of being isolated from my time.

My expression twisted into one of grief. It was Mitsukuni who gave me all these things.

And now he was gone.

“_Do you remember your promise to me?”_

My shoulders sank.

Mitsuhide had refused to speak to me and I sighed softly in sadness. If he was looking at me and I met his gaze, he would look away.

“Do you think he died because of me?” I asked my reflection quietly. If I did not grab Mitsuhide’s wrist to stop him from helping his father, would Mitsukuni have survived?

My reflection shook her head, an effect of the ripples on the water. Even if I had not stopped Mitsuhide, Mitsukuni would still have died, because that dagger still pierced his heart.

Only the blood of another Pureblood could kill another Pureblood when stabbed in the heart.

Still, the guilt which Mitsuhide’s silence caused me weighed down on my shoulders. Did he blame me for his father’s death?

The hurt that caused me split my chest.

The day carried on and I went through it like a phantom. The rain continued to fall. Night came and my sleep was dreamless. The next day I sat on the veranda in my kimono, watching the rain fall and listening to the pitter patter of the skies tears upon the tiled roof above me. The air was damp and fresh.

I found it hard to stand up and get my act together. Aside from Mitsukuni, the only other person I had developed some sort of attachment to was Mitsuhide. Therefore it hurt all the more that he thought the fault was on me.

Could I blame him for that though?

“_You are not the one who is meant to die tonight.”_

After hearing that, I would not be surprised, for I would have reacted the same way, with hate, grief and anger. It just hurt though, because those feelings came from Mitsuhide.

I pressed a hand to my chest, wincing. What was I going to do?

I soft footfall drew my attention and reluctantly, I looked to my side. Mitsuhide stood there and my eyes widened slightly upon seeing him. For the first time in eight days, he had approached me.

“Mitsuhide-sama.”

There was a beat of silence, and his unwavering gaze held mine, until he looked out at the rain. His expression was unreadable.

Unexpectedly, he sat down next to me. “If you had not stopped me, then I could have saved him.”

Whether he realised it or not, his words were like a stabbing blade. I looked down. I had been a burden all throughout that fight.

“If you had just let me die, then you could have fought alongside Akechi-sama, and he would still be alive,” I murmured.

There was a beat of silence. “Yes.”

It felt like something broke inside of me.

“That was what I wanted to believe,” Mitsuhide whispered. “But even if you had not stopped me, Chichi-ue would still have died because of that blood of the blade. Even if you were never there in the first place, he would have died protecting me.” His voice cracked. “I just wanted someone to blame!”

His head thumped against my shoulder and I stared with wide eyes that were moistening.

“Is it wrong for me to wish I could blame you?” He said quietly, his voice breaking. A tear ran down his silky cheek.

“No,” I murmured, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, then blame me, curse me. A human burden like me should never have been there in the first place.”

Mitsuhide stiffened as my arm wrapped about him, until he relaxed under my touch and his expression became twisted as he began to lose his control, showing me his true emotions which he had to keep in check when around others.

“I can’t though,” he said softly. “Because you saved my life again.”

Despite the grief and devastation, I smiled faintly at the acknowledgement, the roundabout thanks. I gazed up at the heavy grey sky.

“Cry, Mitsuhide-sama,” I said gently. “Cry out all your sorrows. It will be your first and last time. Akechi-sama is watching from afar, and he will not want you to mourn over his death for too long.”

It did not take long for the tears to start flowing like streams. The boy’s shoulders shook with his silent sobs.

He cried and cried, until he fell into an emotionally exhausted sleep, and slumped against me.

Asleep, his face looked even younger, and gently, I wiped away the residue of his glistening tears from his cheeks.

“I promised your father that I would protect and guide you, Mitsuhide-sama,” I said quietly, lowering his head down to my lap. “Until I can go back to the future, I will honour his wish.”

I stroked his head, like a mother would for her child, feeling his silky hair beneath my skin. Once again, I gazed up at the sky, thinking of Mitsukuni’s smile which chased away all negativity.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

**April 1542; 4 years after the death of Akechi Mitsukuni**

The sound of violent battle filled the air. Men roared battle cries, swords clashed, naginatas swiped, arrows flew and shields shattered. Smoke puffed through the air as sheds were set alight.

I drew back a bow, aimed down the hill and let the arrow lose. It struck the target through the neck, collapsing to join the dead that already littered ground. I fired a quick succession of arrows at Saito’s men who were charging up the hill. They just kept coming! My unit were outnumbered. The Toki-Akechi army in general was outnumbered. Even though Inabayama Castle – looming behind me – was under our control, it gave us no advantages.

“Osamu-sama!” One of my soldiers panted. “We cannot hold the outer ring for much longer!”

I ground my teeth together. It was something I had been aware of from the beginning. My men were getting slaughtered.

“Blast it,” I muttered under my breath, before I then shouted, “Fall back behind me! Do not cross this line!”

My order was obeyed and my soldiers scrambled back up the hill, leaping over the barricades as fast as possible, desperate to stay one step ahead of Saito’s vicious army.

Struggling to keep my desperation from showing, I watched carefully as the timing of my little plan came into play. It was not a big plan, just something to buy some time for my men.

When enough of my men had crossed the invisible line I had drawn with Kenji, I yelled, “Now, Akito!”

A second later, the line exploded, creating a wall of explosions and flying rubble and dust, ripping limbs from the Saito who had crossed the line. The Saito soldiers screamed and the ones behind were flung back.

I spun around. “Retreat back to the outer wall and seal the gates!” I commanded.

“Aye Aye, Osamu-sama!” They shouted back, rushing back up the hill. I stayed at the rear with some of my remaining archers, firing at the Saito soldiers who were lucky enough to avoid getting blown to pieces. It was enough of a gap though to give my men time to retreat.

Kenji joined me and he threw makeshift grenades down the hill, which exploded as they hit the ground, blowing more Saito soldiers to pieces. Seeing grenades had been a shock to me when Kenji first showed me what he could do a year or so back. I was not particularly familiar with artillery during these times, but who was I to argue? It was extremely useful.

Akito Kenji – the man whom I first met when I first came to this world five years ago – flashed me a calming grin. He was the first kindly face I saw when I woke after being brought through the lake. “Our little plan worked, Osamu-san,” he mused.

I smirked in grim irony. “Yes, it did. But it was only a stall.”

We dashed backwards up the hill, and when I had run out of arrows, I cast my bow away and withdrew my katana again, something which I had earned a year ago from Mitsuyasu.

The last four years had been peaceful, but the growing civil unrest within Mino had been developing over the last two years. It had been something that I was both expecting and dreading.

In 1542, Saito Dousan rebelled against Toki Yorinari and divided the province with civil war. Both sides were evenly divided, or so I thought. Dousan’s brutality, wealth and arrogance brought him superior power. And in this battle, the Toki would lose. Which meant that so would the Akechi, for they were allied with the Toki.

I had prayed, somehow, I would avoid getting caught up in this struggle. Never did I think that one day I would end up becoming an officer who played an important role within one of history’s real battles. And I was a _woman_. Though, that fact was ignored by most. I could fight faster than a lot of them, I thought like a man, commanded like a man, and dressed as a man.

Not only that, this was my first battle, and I was on the losing side.

Never did I think I would be forced to kill. How did I go from a British 6th form graduate, to officer of the Toki-Akechi army?

I had no idea. I thought that I would have found a way to go back to the future by now, but it had yet to happen. Now, I was twenty-three.

Except I still looked the same as when I first came to the past.

“_You have not aged, Aki,”_ Lady Akechi said when we were alone. _“It is as if your body has frozen at eighteen.”_

An arrow whistled past my cheek and I ducked, avoiding another which zoomed above my head. I had already been shot once in the back barely an hour ago. I did not want another arrow hitting its target.

Now was not the time to think of the shocking possibility that I had somehow stopped ageing. I had to concentrate on staying alive and keeping as many of my men alive as possible.

Kenji and I were the last two through the gate which was slammed shut behind us. We panted on the other side, but there was no time to rest, no matter how much my muscles screamed for it. There were more soldiers behind the wall of the castle who were under the command of another officer. Our forces combined together.

“Archers!” He ordered the archers whom were up on the higher levels and platforms. “Slow their advance!” The archers rained arrows down the other side, but arrows came back up. Men grunted and cried as they were hit by the Saito, falling from their platforms.

My jaw clenched. Pounding drummed against the gates as a battering ram boomed against it from the other side. I indicated my archers to the gate.

“Stand in formation. Shoot down anyone who breaks through that gate.” I turned around to the foot soldiers. “Form ranks! Kill any who cross that wall! Do not give them the chance to overrun us!”

Despite the strength I forced into my voice, I knew that my orders would be useless in the end. The outcome of this battle had already been decided before it even began. Even if I did know the details of this battle and how the Toki were defeated, I probably would not change it, because history had to follow its course, no matter how much I wished otherwise.

A messenger rushed up to the officer and I, dropping down on one knee. This was something else I never thought would happen to me. Although I was Mitsuhide’s bodyguard and nothing more, it appeared that my reputation had grown somewhat. Some treated me as a Lord, or Lady, depending on how I dressed. The suffix ‘sama’ was often at the end of my name now. It was something I could not get over.

“Mitsuhisa-sama and Yorinari-sama have retreated behind the northern and eastern gates!” The messenger stated.

The officer clicked his tongue under his breath. “Mitsuyasu-sama has yet to retreat.”

“Tch! It is only a matter of time,” I said.

“At least our gates still hold.”

“For now.”

The officer looked at me darkly. “Your lack of faith is disappointing, Osamu.”

I looked back at him flatly. He did not know that we were going to lose. His faith in Yorinari and blinded him.

“Keep us informed,” I told the messenger.

“Yes, Osamu-sama! Kondo-sama!” He dashed away, and we turned back to the battle. Kenji stood beside me as my right hand.

_Boom!_

The battering ram continued to pound against the gate. Hooks were thrown over the wall and I felt my heart sink into my stomach like a rock. Fear pulsed in my bloodstream.

“How many grenades do you have left, Akito-san?” I asked, trying to think of some other way I could have him use the explosives to my advantage.

_Damn it! I wish I paid more attention to modern warfare! Seeing as bombs are everywhere in my day._

I already paid a large amount of attention to it, as such things fascinated me. Games were the only way I could live it through. Halo was a particular all-time favourite. But my knowledge was severely lacking still.

Kenji smiled thinly. “I will not lie. I’m running short.”

Saito soldiers were climbing over the wall one by one. Some fell as they were hit by arrows; some got through and fell onto the naginatas which waited like a bed of thorns. They kept coming though, and some passed even the line of naginatas, meeting the samurai head on.

_Boom!_

Wood splintered as the front gate cracked. My grip around my katana tightened.

“_Why can’t you transform and end this battle quickly?”_ I had asked with a tight voice before the battle started.

“_Because we live amongst humans and must act as such,” _Mitsuhisa said warningly. _“This is a human battle, therefore we fight as humans. Just because we are a superior species does not mean that we impose our will on others as such. We are humans amongst humans, and Oni amongst Oni. This will be a fair and decisive battle.”_

I growled. In that case, it was no wonder that Dousan – a human – defeated the Toki. He had the mind of a serpent. The man was more of a Yokai than the _real_ ones I had met.

If Mitsuhide were two years older, being sixteen rather than fourteen, then he would be the officer in my place, and no doubt directing his unit better than I was. Despite his young age, he was showing remarkable understanding of warfare. Yorinari said he was destined to be a general.

It was a very accurate statement, for indeed Mitsuhide had the sharp mind of a war general.

Our defences held for longer than I expecting though, but soon enough, another messenger ran up to us.

“Mitsuyasu-sama has retreated!” He puffed.

“Crap,” I cursed, earning a few strange glances with my English. “Now we’re boxed in.”

“Yorinari calls for a brief emergency meeting,” the messenger then said.

“Now?” The officer – Kondo – growled, glancing at the soldiers fighting. I seconded his reluctance.

The messenger nodded. “Immediately.”

Kenji grasped my shoulder. “I will take temporary command. Do hurry back though. I’m not supposed to take this kind of responsibility.”

I met his gaze firmly and nodded. Though Kenji was not an officer, he was intelligent. As the Toki were short on officers, Kenji would have to take the role while Kondo and I were gone.

The messenger hurried us through the castle. It was no time for formalities as we met the other Lords in one of the courtyards.

“Toki-sama, Mitsuyasu-sama, Mitsuhisa-sama!” We exclaimed upon entry. I offered a quick bow.

“Osamu, Kondo,” Yorinari acknowledged as we jogged up to them. The messenger bowed, and quickly left.

“We are in a tight situation,” Yorinari said, getting straight to the point. “We are surrounded on all fronts. It will not be long before our gates are breached.”

“What do you suggest, Yorinari-sama?” Mitsuhisa poised.

“Although we have been forced to retreat, our gates are still well-defended,” Yorinari said, clenching his fist. “The Saito army cannot attack us as one large unit through the gates, giving us the opportunity to cut them down until they run thin.”

When I first met Yorinari, I was stunned to find out how much of a dreamer he seemed to be. His plan was stupid and naïve. We did not have the strength to continue holding back Saito’s men, even if they did attack in more manageable waves. This could not even be classified as a siege. We were too ill prepared for that. The gates would be broken down within a matter of minutes and our numbers had already dwindled.

Despite this pointless plan, I did not argue. Despite the terror and panic saturating the air, somehow, I did not feel as worried about death as I should have been. Because I knew that the three men before me would survive anyway, though I was not sure about Kondo. The Akechi would go on to become great. But that could only happen if the Toki lost today.

Kondo, with his absolute faith in his Lord, obeyed without question. I glanced at Mitsuhisa and Mitsuyasu. They glanced back at me.

“Any questions?” Yorinari asked.

“None,” Mitsuyasu said, causing my eyes to widen slightly in surprise. They were not going to argue with the plan?

“Good. Dismissed.”

With halting movements, I turned around, stunned, and began to follow Kondo back to the southern gate which we defended. I passed through a room when a hand landed on my shoulder. Turning, I faced Mitsuyasu and Mitsuhisa.

“Mitsuyasu-sama, Mitsuhisa-sama,” I said in shock. “What are you both –?”

“What is the outcome of this battle, Aki?” Mitsuhisa questioned. All light-heartedness had gone from his tone. “The only surprise you have shown throughout this whole ideal is being promoted to an officer for this battle. Yet you have shown little surprise with regards to this battle that we now fight.”

I gulped, before exhaling softly under the intensity of their stares. “Isn’t the outcome obvious?” I asked quietly, careful to keep my voice low.

There was a beat of silence. “We lose?” Mitsuyasu murmured. It was a stinging statement, bitter truth.

I looked away, neither nodding nor shaking my head. “But no one dies.” I took a deep breath, deciding to tell them what would happen. It was a risk I was willing to take. This was not an event I had dreamed of. The future-predicting dreams had no pattern. Sometimes it was of important events, other times it was of something completely irrelevant in the town, like a scuffle which required the judgement of the Akechi Lords. If I had dreamed of how this battle would turn out, then would I have been able to change it so that the Toki win?

But if that happened, then history would change. Perhaps that was the reason why I had not dreamt of this battle? The only dream of any relevance to this event was that I was held as a prisoner for a week or so with Mitsuyasu in Inabayama Castle.

“The Toki are exiled from Mino, but the Akechi’s power rise further,” I sighed. “Saito Dousan wins this battle and becomes the next governor of the province, and the Akechi serve him.”

My Lords watched me in silence. Mitsuyasu’s expression did not change, but I noted how Mitsuhisa’s fell slightly in dismay.

“Serve the _Saito_?”

I met their eyes grimly. “That is what is written in history.”

* * * * *

Mitsuhide sat in silence within a room of Tara Castle. It was a castle that the Toki had given them a few years back. It was far more fitting than the manor, even though the manner was large enough. Despite this being their new home, he found that he missed the manor, which had gone to another minor Lord who was fighting in the Toki-Akechi army against the up-riser, Saito Dousan.

His uncles and Aki had left over two weeks ago. Travelling to Inabayama took time, then they had to prepare for battle and organise some sort of strategy. The fighting started yesterday.

His katana lay beside him, sleeping, until it was forced to waken and reap the lives its master sought to take.

Despite his strength and intellect, he could not yet join any such battles until he was at least sixteen when he was then considered a man. If he were two years older, then he would be another officer on that battlefield fighting for Inabayama Castle. He would be fighting with his uncles as another Akechi Lord. He would be fighting alongside Aki.

His eyes narrowed.

He recalled the moment that his uncles called for him and told him what was to happen.

“_Just for this battle, Aki will be temporarily relieved of her duty as your bodyguard. Her combat skills and knowledge of warfare is advanced enough that she will be promoted to an officer status, to fight with us as an equal.”_

It had been hard to hide his dismay. The last thing he had been expecting was having Aki fight in a battle without his company. He did not feel jealous. No. It was concern that he felt.

During the five years Aki had been with them, her combat abilities had improved to the stage where she could be classified as a samurai. As the Toki-Akechi army were short on officers, it would only make sense then to recruit Aki as another officer as she was Akechi Osamu, adopted daughter of Akechi Mitsukuni.

And ever since the night that took his father’s life, Mitsuhide had been insistent on ensuring that both he and Aki learnt to fight together as a team. It had been a while before he could properly reflect on how he felt from the fight that night. Even when Aki could barely stay conscious, she still protected his back, just as he protected her in return.

She had saved his life twice now, and he had saved her life once. The debt still had to be paid. And he was more than happy to pay it.

Mitsuhide kept his thoughts silent. But he could not deny the stirring wish that he and Aki could fight side by side, as Lord and bodyguard; as officer and officer; as friend and friend.

He wondered though. Wondered how well Aki would fight today. He did not doubt her skills or leadership abilities. However, she was inexperienced, like him.

His jaw clenched.

_Dousan._

The snake of a man caused this civil war. If the Akechi and Toki could fight with their true power, then there would be no doubt as to the outcome of this battle. However, they could not fight as Oni. They had to fight as humans.

Would the Toki-Akechi win?

It was hard to tell. They had all severely underestimated Dousan’s greedy and ruthless mind from the beginning. Yorinari had already shown signs of kow-towing down to him by giving him his concubine, Omi no Kata – also known as Miyoshino-hime.

A beat of dull fear pulsed through Mitsuhide. It was not his fear.

He looked up. The jade tiger – attached to his leather hairband – glinted in the light.

That was not his fear that pulsed through him. It was Aki’s.

Mitsuhide frowned, his hand beginning to reach out for his katana when he stopped himself. What good would that do? The battle was miles away from Tara Castle.

Grudgingly, he pulled his hand back and sighed. It was an odd thing – telepathic links.

“_Aki, do you know of or believe in telepathic links between certain people?” He asked her as they sat on the rocks by the lake, waiting for the sun to dry them. They had been practicing sitting on the bottom holding their breath. Aki had lost the competition._

“_That is a random question,” she laughed softly. “Where did that come from?”_

_Mitsuhide looked across the lake, not intending to say why. He asked though, because every now and then, he could somehow sense when she was either in distress, or wishing to speak to him when she was nowhere near him. Of course, the demons of the supernatural world __which__ he was part of could communicate telepathically to each other, but his link with Aki was slightly different. He could _sense_ her._

“_I don’t just believe in them. I know of them quite well,” Aki said. Her statement surprised him and he glanced at her. “I had such a link with my father who – like me – unfortunately could see the future as well. Whenever I was in distress of some sort, he could sense it. Whenever the family would split and one of us did not have a mobile phone, he would call me mentally. Of course, I did not hear that, but my instincts would tell me to look in a certain place, and there he would be.”_

_Mitsuhide gazed up the high windswept clouds. Aki said they were called ‘_ _ cirrus _ _’ clouds, some of the highest in the skies._

“_Your __Chichi-ue__ sounds very much like you,” Mitsuhide mused. “Aside from the idiocy of his youth.”_

_They both chuckled at the stories Aki had told of her father._

“_Why did you ask, Mitsuhide-sama?”_

_Mitsuhide shook his head. “No reason.”_

That little conversation however had confirmed his suspicions. He had the same link with Aki, though it would be many years, he suspected, before he could understand it or what it meant.

He closed his eyes in defeat as Aki’s fear faded, replaced by silence. His instinct knew.

They had lost.

* * * * *

I was forced to my knees, kneeling in a line with the other officers of the Toki-Akechi army. Those not too far in ranking from us were kneeling behind. Our hands were bound tightly behind our backs with ropes which bit our flesh, adding to the pain already throbbing through our bodies. I was cut and bleeding, adding to the scars that were already on my body from the Oni attack four years ago.

I glanced at Yorinari, Mitsuhisa and Mitsuyasu. They too were covered in blood. Some of it was theirs, until their wounds healed, but most of it was of the men that they fought alongside or killed. However, they did look tired. It was a relief actually to me, to see them tired. It made them seem more human, more down to earth than the supernatural beings they actually were.

I blinked the blood and dirt from my eyes and looked up through. My body was so tired.

Our weapons were confiscated. Saito officers were lined both in front and behind us. Soldiers guarded the outer lines. The air reeked of smoke and death. The dead were everywhere, buildings were ruined.

It was eerily quiet.

Saito Dousan stood before us, still clad in his armour with his helmet removed. He was not an attractive man. His stature was big and sturdy, making him imposing and intimidating.

Katana bare and still stained with blood, he pointed it at Yorinari, tapping the apex of the blade beneath Yorinari’s chin.

Dousan smirked cruelly. “Well, well, Yorinari. Who would have thought that you were this weak? Pity that. It must be an embarrassment to the Minamoto ancestors, to see their descendants defeated by _me_, a man of merchant origins.”

I tensed. Because of Dousan’s arrogant personality, the man never found out the true nature of the Toki and the Akechi. He was never told. _If he knew, then I bet he would not be rubbing his victory in our faces_, I thought angrily. _I’m going to have to serve this arrogant bastard for the next fourteen years?_

Provided I was still around, that was.

“You are outnumbered, Yorinari,” Dousan continued. “I have the larger wealth and power, therefore I claim Mino as my own. You do not have the strength of numbers to retaliate against me.”

“What do you intend to do, Saito-_sama_?” Yorinari questioned with a hint of mocking to his tone. Dousan heard it and kicked him in the head, causing the man to be flung back. I flinched in horror at the unpredictable ruthlessness.

A faint murmur passed through the Toki-Akechi before it was silenced by Dousan’s glare.

“Hmph, you try my patience already, Yorinari,” he said darkly. “But, this victory of mine has put me in a good mood. You and the rest of the Toki are hereby exiled from Mino. You should count yourself lucky that I will not execute you, because despite my loathing for you, I suppose you were the fool who enabled me to climb to this position of authority.”

The Toki-Akechi gasped in anger at the insult and the sentence that was delivered. I on the other hand, felt my shoulders sink in defeat, not surprised by it. I liked Yorinari, even though he was irritatingly naïve and dim sometimes.

Beside me, Mitsuyasu and Mitsuhisa did not react at all. I had already warned them of what to expect from this battle.

“This sentence is in effect immediately,” Dousan announced. “Escort the Toki from Mino.”

Toki Yorinari was grabbed by two guards, who led him roughly away. Sadness touched my heart and I closed my eyes briefly. Murmurs came from both sides; dismay from the Toki-Akechi, and victory from the Saito. The officers remained silent, but some of them showed obvious anger – Kondo being one of them.

_: He will be fine_, Mitsuhisa murmured, his mind open to both his brother and me. Ever since I had been let into the loop of Oni, Yokai and the lot, they also practised seeing if I could hear their telepathic voices and vice versa. I could hear them and reply back to them, but only if they established the first link. I could not talk to them first without them having made the connection first.

Instead of frightening people as it would have done for any normal person, I found this telepathic communication absolutely fascinating now that I was gradually learning more about these supernatural beings.

_: Even if the Toki lose their place in the human realm,_ Mitsuhisa added,_ the supernatural realm will hail them accordingly to their bloodline and power. Their failure in the human world will have no impact on their reputation in the supernatural world._

I took some comfort from his words, as guards came and went.

Dousan turned his attention to the officers. “You all on the other hand have a slightly different choice. You can either join me, or remain loyal to the weak Yorinari and be executed.”

“I would rather die than serve the retainer who betrayed his Lord!” Kondo spat.

My eyes shot to him in alarm.

“As you wish,” Dousan said flatly, beheading Kondo on the spot without warning. I was not able to hold back my stifled gasp as the head thumped to the ground and blood fountained from the stump of Kondo’s neck. His body collapsed on the ground before Dousan, and the blood spread across the courtyard paving to touch his boots.

Immediately I looked away, jaw clenched and feeling my heart hammer in my chest out of thinly controlled terror. Dousan was indeed ruthless. I prayed silently that he did not notice my flinch.

It was not in my luck.

Dousan stopped in front of me and with his gloved fingers, he forced my chin up to look at him.

“Osamu, Osamu.” He smirked. His face was far too close to mine to be comfortable. “You did far better today than I was expecting. You truly are a fascinating woman. Perhaps I should make you one of my concubines – and then I will kill you. You are too much of a thinker to be considered harmless in the bedroom.”

I did not hear the last part. The word ‘concubine’ stuck in my head like a bee to honey, but with the stinging shock of a dagger through the gut. I was still a virgin. If I were to have sex with anyone then it had to be with the man I had fallen in love with. No such thing had happened yet, and the thought of Dousan’s flesh against mine made the hairs on my arms stand on end, making my skin crawl in disgust and fear.

“That will not be necessary, Saito-sama,” Mitsuyasu cut in monotonously.

Dousan’s attention turned to him, but he did not let go of my chin. I swallowed my growing hysteria.

_I don’t want to be a concubine! Please lose interest! Please don’t force me to be your prostitute! _

“Saito-sama?” Dousan quoted.

“Yes,” Mitsuyasu nodded before Dousan could take it the wrong way. “Osamu is an officer and Akechi Mitsuhide’s bodyguard. We ask that you do not make her anything more or less than that. On another note with regards to where our allegiances now lie, I will speak on the behalf of the Akechi clan as a whole – we hereby serve the Saito clan and Saito Dousan, new Lord and Daimyo of Mino.”

More gasps rippled through the soldiers, both from the Saito and the Toki-Akechi. Dousan let go of me roughly and moved to tower over Mitsuyasu and Mitsuhisa. The Akechi Lords’ expressions remained unreadable. They were not intimidated by Dousan, after all, the two Akechi Lords were something more than human. However, they could not show that to their new Daimyo.

“If you speak on behalf of your clan, then Mitsuhisa, bow down and kiss my boots,” Dousan sneered. “Taste the blood of those who served the Toki-Akechi that stains these boots of mine.”

With a worried and angry glance, I looked from Dousan to the other brother. It almost looked as if a flash of amusement flickered in his eyes briefly.

Without arguing, he lowered his head, and his lips met Dousan’s bloodied boots. The shameful and disgraceful act was done, and the Saito laughed mockingly.

They would not be laughing for long. Soon enough these two clans would be working side by side.

Dousan smirked. “Swallowing pride must be a bitter thing, Mitsuhisa. In that case, the Akechi now serve me. In order to ensure your loyalty however during the transaction, Osamu and Mitsuyasu will be my temporary prisoners. Think of it as insurance. Should the rest of the Akechi not follow your lead, then these two will die. When I can be sure that the Akechi’s complete obedience is to me, then I will release them.”

My eyes narrowed slightly. That part of my dream was true after all. Mitsuyasu and I would be his prisoners.

The ropes that bound Mitsuhisa were cut and he bowed. “As you wish, Saito-sama.”

Dousan grunted. “Now get to work immediately. And you four!” He jabbed a finger at the four closest guards behind Mitsuyasu and I. “Take these two to the cells.”

Mitsuhisa bowed more time before he was escorted out to begin the Akechi defect from the Toki to the Saito, while Mitsuyasu and I were hoisted up roughly and led away.

“Now who else wishes to follow the Akechi’s example?” I heard Dousan boom behind me. “Or will you chose the Toki and be executed?”

“Oof!” I puffed as I was shoved along, never getting to find out who sided with us and who chose death. I kept my mouth shut as we were taken down to the lower levels of the castle into the prison beneath. It stank of old excrement and stale straw which was stained with urine.

I was pushed into one cell and Mitsuyasu was pushed into the one next to me. Our bonds were cut, before the barred doors slammed shut in our faces. I glared at the backs of the guards as they headed back up the stairs, laughing at the disgraceful position that the Akechi were currently in – we had been forced to abandon our allies and defect to the enemy side. Where was the honour in that?

Had I not known history, cold fury would have seethed within my soul at this downfall.

“Knowing it still doesn’t make it any better!” I spat bitterly under my breath, kicking the bars once in frustration.

“Nevertheless, it is done. The Akechi still maintain our standing in human society, which is currently more important,” Mitsuyasu said dully, sitting down against the cold stone wall.

I turned to look at him. Indeed, he was right. It was done, the Akechi had switched allegiances to the Saito, and managed to keep their dignity and position. Still though, that did not ease the burning anger within me over the shameful act Dousan had forced Mitsuhisa to do.

With a huff, I sat down in the middle of my cell, where the ground was the least dirty. I breathed in through my mouth so I did not have to smell the stench so strongly. My heart still raced in my chest and exhaustion roared through my aching and injured body.

“What will happen now, Mitsuyasu-sama?” I asked in defeat.

Mitsuyasu was silent for a few moments. “Mitsuhisa will go back to Tara Castle and inform the clan of the situation. Then over the coming days, the rest of the Akechi will swear allegiance to Dousan and everything that is under our control, will follow our lead and acknowledge him as the new Daimyo of Mino.”

I gazed down at my lap in shame. How disappointed would Mitsuhide be at this failure to quell Dousan’s uprising? How would he look on us when we returned to Tara Castle?

It had been a while now since I last saw any of them. Was Kenji alright?

“How long would it take?”

Mitsuyasu shrugged slightly. “That will depend on how cooperative the rest of the clan is.”

I sighed softly. Just like how I waited for my time to return to the twenty-first century, I now had to wait to be released from this cell.

The silence began and I closed my eyes from tiredness. It was better to sleep, to meditate. Time would go faster then.

But I knew in my heart that it would go slowly. I just had to endure it.

“You met our expectations,” Mitsuyasu said quietly, hours after we had been imprisoned. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He had the same sort of expression of those who knew and taught me in the twenty-first century wore. Their expectations were strangely high for some God forsaken reason.

And judging from their expressions and praises, I tended to meet them more often than I realised.

“Were they high or low?” I asked softly nonetheless.

“High,” Mitsuyasu stated bluntly. I smiled faintly and shook my head in dismay. “It is unlikely that Dousan will demote you from your position as an officer,” Mitsuyasu continued. “However, you are a member of my clan, and your fate is ultimately determined by the Akechi – no other. We had our doubts about whether you would be suitable later on as Mitsuhide’s true bodyguard, but I believe those doubts are now void.”

I stared at him, before warmth spread through me at his roundabout compliment. It was so hard to get any praise from him, for he was a cold and distant man who showed little emotion.

I smiled, and bowed to him. “Thank you, Mitsuyasu-sama.”

He simply grunted and looked back out through the bars, uninterested once again.

* * * * *

**32** ** days later**

Mitsuhide stood in the courtyard with his arms crossed and scowling, tapping his toes against the paving in impatience. He was one of many people in the courtyard who greeted Mitsuyasu and Aki as they returned from their temporary imprisonment at Inabayama Castle.

There were smiles all around as the two were welcomed back. When Aki spotted Mitsuhide, he saw her expression falter slightly and she came before him.

“Mitsuhide-sama, I –”

“You are late,” he interrupted.

Aki blinked. “Mitsuhide-sama?” She stammered.

“You should have come back weeks ago,” he said irritably.

She stared at him. “Y-you are not disappointed?”

His eyes snapped to hers. He was only a few inches shorter than her now. “About what? The defeat?”

She looked awkward and he exhaled sharply. “As long as we are alive, defeat is never a true defeat. Had you lost completely, then that would be a different matter.”

She was silent for a moment, letting the noise and babble of everyone else wrap them in a cocoon of their own little world. The awkwardness faded from her posture and a tiny, cunning smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“You were concerned that I may have died?”

He flinched unsuspectingly. She hit the target. “You were worried about my safety?”

“Hmph!” He harrumphed coldly, looking away, unable to stop the slight flush which tinged his cheeks. Aki laughed. The sound was light hearted and filled with respite.

“You are so very sweet, Mitsuhide-sama,” she teased, like she had done on countless occasions before in the last five years.

“Hurry up and get rested. We start our team training again tomorrow at dawn,” he said icily. That though was just to mask the complete opposite feeling within him. He was relieved that she was still alright, relieved to see her smile and to hear her laugh. Even the teasing was a relief.

Because Aki was back. Alive and in one piece.


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

**1544; November. ** **Two years after Dousan became Daimyo of Mino.**

I yawned deeply from atop the back of my horse. She was Mana, one of two young horses born from Ruka, Mitsukuni’s old horse. Mana looked just like her mother, as did Riku, her brother, which had become Mitsuhide’s horse.

“Why are you tired?” Mitsuhide asked flatly. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

I blinked, clamping my mouth shut mid-yawn as I realised how rude my gesture had been. “Forgive me, Mitsuhide-sama. I did not mean to yawn in front of you.”

He snorted dismissively. “I think I have spent enough time around you to understand that your behaviour is not intended to be rude.”

I glanced across at him. He rode just slightly ahead of me, as fitting for a Lord and his bodyguard. His gaze was turned away, viewing the brilliant fiery colours of the autumn leaves. They were still thick above us, and blanketed the road with a carpet of orange, red and yellow leaves which crunched beneath the horses’ hooves.

His hair was beautifully long now, as black as night and as smooth as silk. It was tied up high with a leather band. The jade tiger hung from it, just as the jade dragon always hung from mine. He still would not tell me why he wanted the tiger over the dragon. Nevertheless, it had become an elegant hair accessory which enhanced his grace.

People on the road moved to the side and bowed. “Good morning, Mitsuhide-sama!” They all greeted with sincere smiles. He returned them.

“Good morning,” he replied softly. “Do take care on the roads.”

“Yes! We will. Thank you very much, Mitsuhide-sama! Have a safe journey!”

It was the same with everyone we came across on the roads. People stopped to greet us, farmers paused in their work to wave and bow. Their expressions always brightened upon seeing Mitsuhide. I watched from afar.

He was sixteen now, and was maturing quickly. His body was growing into that of man and he was the same height as me now.

Not just his physical body, but his mentality was also maturing. His rebellious and irritable phase passed between fourteen and fifteen. Now, he kept his composure calm and often formal. He made an effort to learn the ways of the commoners and went out frequently to see them. Mitsuhide took an interest in many things, ranging from simple farming to the complexity of the tea ceremony and poetry. He had become quite popular amongst the commoners in particular for taking an interest in them at all.

I smiled faintly with relief. As he grew, I wondered whether he would turn out to be the cold and heartless snake it was rumoured that he was, or if he would turn out being the benevolent and trustworthy man as the other rumours depicted.

It truly was good to see him become the latter.

He glanced back at me. “What is it, Aki?”

I shook my head slightly and gazed up at the colourful canopy of leaves above us. “Just thinking about how much you have grown.”

Mitsuhide looked ahead. He had stopped using the title of ‘senpai’ not too long ago. It would have been considered rude for I was still his senior, but now that he was classified as a young adult, calling me ‘Aki-senpai’ seemed silly. Well . . . it would if I were in his position. So excluding the honorific was fine by me. And he most likely knew that.

“How much I have grown, huh?” He murmured. “It has been seven years now, has it not?” He looked back at me. “You have not changed at all, both physically and mentally.”

The wind blew between us, snatching his words away into the rustling of the crispy leaves. I let it sigh through me and I turned my gaze ahead as well.

“Seven years . . .” I breathed.

Seven years of living in the past. Seven years of not ageing one bit, frozen at eighteen. I could handle the supernatural beings, their inhuman strength and abilities, even my own gift – or curse, depending on how pessimistic or optimistic I was feeling – of the future sight. But not ageing? I had no idea how to deal with that. Humans were not supposed to live forever. Immortality was impossible. So many in the past had sought ways of immortality, and they had all failed.

And yet, here I was, a human who _should_ look like a twenty-five year old woman. But I looked eighteen still. I was still eighteen.

I sniffed in amusement. “You are catching up with my age, Mitsuhide-sama,” I mused.

He smiled slightly. “I suppose I am.”

We carried on along the roads to Inabayama Castle. We were nearly there now.

Mitsuhide, being a Lord, would normally make his visits with soldiers to accompany him. However, most of the time he did not for he took me instead. In the seven years I had trained, I had earned myself the skill in order to be called a samurai. Makoto’s training was hard and tough, often leaving me groaning the next day in pain. But it paid off, for my skill was now good enough for many things.

I was the adopted daughter of Mitsukuni – Akechi Osamu, an officer, a samurai, a bodyguard.

Mitsuhide was the son of Mitsukuni – heir to the Akechi clan, a samurai, a young Lord and a Pureblood Oni. Except his true bloodline was not known amongst humans.

Nevertheless, we were seldom attacked by bandits along the road. They learnt their lessons fast. The only ones who did attack us were either too arrogant for their own good, or had never heard of us in the first place.

We arrived at the town of Inabayama, which buzzed with life and of many people hurrying to get ready for travel or storage before the snows arrived. Once the snows arrived, paths were shut and towns and villages were isolated for the next three months or so.

Once again, I was awed by the buzz. The town of Inabayama and the castle was much bigger than Tara Castle and its surrounding town. Our castle was now renamed ‘Akechi Castle’.

We guided our horses up the hill and through the trees until we arrived at the castle. The mountain loomed behind it. As we came in through the gates, we were greeted with shouts of brief welcome and some came up to greet us personally. We were led towards the stables before another figure came to our attention.

It was a young man of seventeen, barking out orders which came to an abrupt halt as he spotted us.

“Ah! Mitsuhide-sama!” He exclaimed, striding up to us as we dismounted.

Mitsuhide wore a polite smile. “Yoshitatsu-sama,” he replied in return.

Yoshitatsu was the eldest son of Dousan. “It is good to see you – both.”

I bowed in greeting. “Yoshitatsu-sama,” I echoed Mitsuhide. Our age ranges were so similar, but I could not help but feel so much older – because in a sense, I still was and always would be, mentally anyway if not physically. As far as everyone else aside from the Akechi were concerned, I was twenty-five. I wondered if any normal person had begun to notice that I did not look any different to seven years ago.

“Osamu, you need not bow,” Yoshitatsu said with a slight shake of his head. “You are of the noble samurai class like us. You are a Lord . . . a Lady . . .” He began to look confused and I chuckled.

“Very well. I am a Lord when dressed as a man, and a Lady when dressed as a woman. But I am a bodyguard first. Whatever other titles I have come after that.”

He argued back and I merely kept my mouth shut. Arguing against a young man, a young Lord in particular, tended to be a waste of time. They were stubborn, carrying an air of superior importance as they had reached the age when they could be classified as a man and they understood their position much better.

Mitsuhide, although he was more mature and sensible than others I had come across, he was still no exception. He butted in when Yoshitatsu took a moment to suck in another lungful of air to continue talking.

“How are you and Dousan-sama?” He inquired.

Yoshitatsu sighed, turning around and began to lead us through the castle once we had removed our sandals. He forgot me almost immediately, which was ideal. Mitsuhide was always supposed to be the great beacon of light, the centre of attention. I was just someone who lingered nearby.

I watched Mitsuhide from behind, smiling faintly, as he spoke to Yoshitatsu about the state of the castle and then about more boyish things, such as sports, which usually meant training in this case. Mitsuhide probably would never come to realise just how highly I held him in regard. Without him, I would not be alive. Without him, I would have gone insane from the impossibility of my situation of being transported into the past. He was my company and my friend, the one who showed me some measure of kindness in this world from the very moment I landed here.

He was the first person who ever sought my company, unlike in my present day where it was always me seeking others. Ever since Mitsuhide was a child, he would talk and listen to me with smiles and we shared laughter and arguments.

In the twenty-first century, I was a ghost. I would arrive, and I would leave, and no one would ever notice. But Mitsuhide was the opposite to that, always had been.

_He is a precious friend_, I thought with content.

My smile faltered however. One person was missing, the one who made everything happen; giving me a home and a family, raising me as one of their own, feeding me and training me.

_Mitsukuni-sama_, I thought sadly. It had been six years now since he had died. It was the first time I had experienced the sorrow of loss. Time healed the wounds, but never completely. That echo of pain remained, and always would do.

I passed a corridor, and almost jumped in fright at the little figure waiting just within it. The beautiful little girl gazed up at me with calm pleasure. In just the two months that had passed since I last saw her, she had already grown considerably more.

The young grew so quickly. I could now understand what my parents meant by us – my sister and I – growing up so fast.

My eyebrows rose and automatically I smiled. “Nou-hime.”

“Cousin Osamu,” she greeted with her low and sleek voice. Mitsuhide did not look surprised to see her, and Yoshitatsu only frowned as they paused.

“Ani-ue, cousin Mitsuhide, you will not mind if I take Osamu, ne?”

Yoshitatsu just waved his hand dismissively. “Do as you please.”

While Mitsuhide smiled kindly. “Of course.”

Nou’s controlled expression did not change, which was extraordinary for a nine-year-old. However, her eyes lit up as permission was quickly granted. I exchanged nods with Mitsuhide and Yoshitatsu, before I then took Nou’s eagerly held out hand and the two young Lords continued on.

“Where are your maids, Nou-hime? You are a beautiful girl. Someone could sneak into the castle and kidnap you,” I chided.

Nou’s charming smile held a hint of sly smugness at the compliment. “My kidnappers will be blinded by my beauty and I will defeat them.”

It amazed me how similar this young Nou was to the Samurai Warriors games. At least that was one aspect of history which was definitely correct. Nou was someone of stunning beauty and incredible wit.

I chuckled softly. “I am sure you will, Nou-hime.” I was thoroughly glad that I was not an enemy of the Saito. Making a good impression on the young Nou was sure to pay off somehow later in the future. As they said, first impressions count as that’s the one that always sticks. Whatever impression I made on Nou a year ago seemed to have worked, as she was always one of the first to greet me and fight for my attention.

“Truly though, where are your maids, Nou-hime?” I pressed again.

“With Hiroko-hime,” Nou said plainly. “She is awfully boring, therefore I left to find you. It is good that you and cousin Mitsuhide came around the same time as Tsumaki-sama, otherwise I would be really bored. You are much more interesting than her.”

My eyebrows flew up and I gasped, which caused me to choke on my own phlegm.

“Why are you choking? You’re not eating or drinking anything,” Nou said with impatience. A spoilt and witty child indeed.

Once I could breathe again, I peered down at her. “Tsumaki-sama and his daughter are here?” I croaked.

Nou nodded, leading me to the gardens where we normally played. “They arrived here yesterday and will be staying for six more days, that is what Chichi-ue said.”

Excitement exploded in my chest, followed by a stupid grin which I could not wipe from my face. Hiroko was here! Mitsuhide’s future lover and wife was here in this very castle!

“Hmm, I would like to meet her at some point,” I mused, struggling to make my voice sound controlled and calm.

“You probably will over the next few days. But you must play with me first!” She pouted.

I sighed and smiled in defeat, letting Nou pull me along. “Very well. What do you want to play today?”

We came out onto the veranda and Nou slid into her sandals. The garden was ablaze with stunning fiery colours of autumn leaves. The sun was bright and the water of the small stream bubbled over the pebbles. A stone bridge was built across it.

“Teach me another game from your world, cousin Osamu,” she said brightly. As she was half Oni, it also meant that she was in on the secrets. What amazed me though was that someone so young could hold her tongue on such important matters. But what was even more amazing was that she understood its importance, and often used it to her advantage.

I did not want to be on Nou’s bad side. But in the future when Mitsuhide rebelled against Nobunaga, Nou would indeed become an enemy.

My expression fell slightly in sadness as I watched her pick up five leaves and placed them between her fingers, turning them into a fiery fan, or a handful of dagger-like leaves.

_Good things never last._

Nou span around in a graceful dance, letting the leaves fall about her like fluttering rain of fire. The dances of this time and age were far more appealing and graceful to the eye, nothing like the provocative movements of my modern time which demeaned females so much. I felt sorry for the women who had fought so hard to earn respect equal to that of a man. How they would weep if they saw the women and girls of the modern day, seeing all their hard work go to waste.

The little girl skipped ahead as I stepped down from the veranda and onto the leaves that littered the grass. She bent down and picked something from the ground beneath a huge tree. In fact, the entire ground beneath the tree’s arms was dotted with them.

“What’s this?” Nou asked, holding one out to me. “They are a beautiful colour. I’ve asked Chichi-ue and Ani-ue, and the maids, but none of them are interested in it,” she sighed, picking up another and running her pale fingers over its smooth, mahogany surface.

I grinned. “These are conkers, seeds of that tree. Where I come from, as children, we used to play a game with these. It’s a boys game more so than girls, but I was not the normal girl.”

“What kind of game?” Nou asked curiously.

I knelt down to her level so I did not tower over her, and touched my finger to the pale patch at the top of the conker. “It is a two-player game. One threads a string through the conker and then each player takes turns in striking the other player’s conker. They keep going until one breaks. That person loses, and has to find a new conker.”

I was expecting Nou to already look bored, but to my surprise, her eyes glittered with interest. “Show me,” she demanded.

Glancing about me, I said, “We need some thick string then and something to drill a hole with.”

“Drill?”

I smacked my hand to my forehead. “Ah, I keep forgetting that those terms don’t exist yet in this time,” I muttered to myself. “We need something to make a hole through the conker,” I said louder.

Nou looked thoughtful. “I can make the holes myself. I need Chiyo to fetch the string though.”

“I can fetch that.”

“No, no! You are a Lady, cousin Osamu. You must not do the duties that the maids and servants are paid to do.”

I sighed again, throwing up and catching my conker with one hand as I followed somewhere behind Nou, who walked proudly ahead around the veranda to another section of the castle.

_A Lady, huh?_ I wondered. I suppose I was one in law, but I did not act like one if I could help it. In Akechi castle, I helped in the kitchen, did the chores and gossiped with the maids. In the town, I chatted with the commoners and played with the children. Being a Lady, as Lady Akechi wished, was boring . . . very boring. They sat indoors all days doing sewing or reading poetry and practising the tea ceremony. When they went outside, they went for a tiny walk around the garden, wrapped up warm as if they were the most delicate thing in the world. No wonder they died early or made a big deal when they got a simple cold! Their immune system was practically non-existent. But of course, none of them would understand the sciences of the human body as I knew it.

Hell, I was probably the most intelligent person alive at the current time.

That thought made me pause and a smug smirk spread across my lips. Who would have thought that arrogance and vanity was such a pleasurable and mighty feeling?

Voices pulled me back from my brief moment of feeling on top of the world. I came up behind Nou, who had stopped in front of the veranda. The screens were open and quite a few women were seated inside, talking of girly things like fashion. I zoned out immediately, wondering once again why I had not been born a boy from the beginning, as I was more of a boy than a girl when it came to these things – totally uninterested.

“Chiyo,” Nou called with impressive authority. The twittering chit chat quietened as they acknowledge Nou’s presence with respect.

Chiyo rose from where she was and moved over to Nou. She was Nou’s personal maid, one born from a high family and with looks and wit to match. The two got along quite well because of it, but also clashed catastrophically due to that very same reason.

The maid had risen from the side of a young woman – girl in my opinion – who was certainly not a maid. While Nou was dishing out her requests to her maid, I looked at this other girl who had everyone else’s attention. Her eyes immediately dropped when I met her stare and her face flushed.

She was a girl in a rich kimono of fiery colours which matched the autumn leaves. Her frame was petite, with hair bunched up against her head elegantly to bring some beauty to her otherwise plain face. There were a few scars on her face from smallpox.

_And that part of history is also true,_ I mused to myself. That amusement turned to surprise when she suddenly bowed after making eye-contact.

“F-forgive me, Lord, for not formally introducing myself,” she stammered. “I am T-Tsumaki Hiroko, the eldest daughter of the Tsumaki family.”

I blinked, taken aback by her formality. She thought I was a visiting Lord? And her face was red! I sighed.

“No need to be so formal, Hiroko-hime,” I chuckled softly. “I am not a Lord worth attention.”

“Nonsense!” Nou exclaimed as Chiyo went off to find the strings. “You are a great Lord.”

My jaw clenched, resisting the urge to sigh again at Nou’s extremely cheesy comment. Instead, I ignored it and bowed formally to the young fourteen-year-old girl.

“I am Akechi Osamu. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hiroko-hime,” I greeted.

“A-ah likewise!” She stammered, bowing again. “I have heard many things about you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Good things I hope. It is Mitsuhide-sama who should be the focus of your attention. You may meet him later depending on the circumstances.”

Her face flushed again. “Mitsuhide-sama is here as well?”

It was very hard to not smile. “Yes. We arrived quite recently. You will get along with him quite well.”

Chiyo came back with what we needed and handed them to Nou. “We have what we need now so we will speak to you later, Hiroko-hime,” Nou said to the young girl calmly. It was an odd sight to see. Nou was five years younger and yet she held more power and authority in her behaviour and voice, while Hiroko’s posture was stiff and her voice shook with nervousness. They were huge opposites.

Hiroko bowed and I returned the gesture, before following Nou back around into the gardens. I thought about the young girl who was to be Mitsuhide’s future bride. They were suited for each other. Hiroko’s quietness suited Mitsuhide’s calmness ideally. It was no wonder that history said they were a very successful couple. I could not wait to see the moment where the two of them meet.

Getting sucked back into the past had its perks.

Nou managed to poke a hole through the two conkers with her slender fingers, to my astonishment. Then again, she was half Oni. I threaded the string through and then I taught her the game of conkers, showing her how to swing the conker on its string to hit her opponent’s. As a demonstration, I told her to hold the end of her string and let her conker hang until it stopped swinging, then, I swung my conker with practised technique – but lacking any strength – to hit her conker directly with a clack. I did not want hers to break so soon.

Nou’s expression was intrigued and so she tried. Her first try missed, then it was my turn, and when her round came again, she swung and hit. The clack was loud. On her fourth round, she cracked my conker.

“Oh! That was fast!” I exclaimed, and a huge smile spread across Nou’s lips. It was my turn and her conker cracked. Nou’s smile vanished. On her next go, my conker was smashed to pieces.

“Yay I did it! I won!” She squealed, breaking her usually controlled demeanour.

I smiled. “You definitely did, Nou-hime. You did even better than Mitsuhide-sama’s first attempt.”

Her smile turned into a slight smirk. “Ho, I did, did I? Maybe I should challenge him to a conk duel!”

I snorted with laughter before I could smother it. “It is ‘conk_er_’. A ‘conk’ is your nose, or your head. In my country it’s the nose.”

“Yes, yes,” Nou said, not registering what I said, though she looked irritated upon my laughing at her. “We should find cousin Mitsuhide.”

I straightened and stretched my back with a grunt. “Are you sure you do not want more practice? Mitsuhide-sama is very good at the sport now.”

“Hmph. Well if he is better than you then it should not be too difficult,” Nou sniffed with a heightened sense of superiority.

I just smiled thinly back. Had she been somewhere in her teens then I would have answered with some snide remark. But a child would not understand it, not to mention she was a Daimyo’s daughter. I may be classified as a Lord or Lady of the Akechi clan, but as far as I was concerned, my social standing was low compared to Nou.

“Let us have another game,” I said, turning my gaze to the ground to search for another conker. “Now in the rules, I must find another conker because my last one was smashed. The winner keeps their conker until it breaks as well.”

Nou examined her conker. “That isn’t fair. Mine will be weaker than yours.”

“Not always,” I mused. “If you picked a good conker then it can survive and even smash another’s. I once won three rounds with the same conker. It is all in the technique, Nou-hime.”

I rummaged through the leaves as Nou looked thoughtful, when a call drew my attention.

“Osamu-san.”

Recognising that voice, I turned around to find Kenji standing on the veranda. “Akito,” I said brightly. He waved back and also greeted Nou.

He spent a lot of time at Inabayama castle now, sent by the Akechi and to represent the Akechi in some cases. Therefore I did not see my friend too often anymore. Nou spent quite a bit of time with him and she dashed up to the man with the conker.

“Look, Kenji-san. It’s a conk, a conk! Cousin Osamu taught me a game with them which I should also teach you.”

“A conk?” Kenji asked lightly.

I smacked my palm to my forehead again. “It’s _conker_, Nou-hime. The two words are very different.” Nou was barely listening, busy babbling the rules to Kenji. I just sighed. It was an odd sight to see her talk so much and so quickly compared to her usual composure.

“Osamu-san,” Kenji said, taking advantage of Nou’s pause to breathe at the end of her utterance. “Your presence is required at the dojo.”

I lowered my hand with a raised eyebrow. “The dojo? What for?”

“Mitsuhide-sama is being tested. Saito-sama wants to know his physical capabilities seeing as he has already shown his mental capabilities.”

I looked at him for a moment in silence, before I shrugged and nodded. “Alright. I’ll head over there now. Thanks for telling me.”

Kenji returned the nod. “You’re welcome, Osamu-san.”

I did a little bow to Nou. “Excuse me, Nou-hime. Introduce Kenji-san to the game, yes?”

“Yes, definitely.”

Satisfied, I left them both behind and made my way to the castle’s dojo, keeping my mind and senses open. Soon enough, I felt Mitsuhide’s familiar mental touch against mine.

_: Do you want more of an explanation? _He asked.

_: That would be helpful. _My curiosity was obvious to him.

_: Very well. Saito-sama’s last administrator has apparently shown to be incompetent, therefore I have been asked to replace him. In addition to that, Saito-sama also wishes for me to become an officer soon enough, hence the test in the dojo. _

_: Oh, _I breathed. In history Mitsuhide was known to be the administrator of Mino. As for when he became an officer though was something that eluded me. _Aren’t you a bit young to become an officer? _I asked worriedly.

If he had been standing in front of me, I know he would have rolled his eyes at that comment with an amused smile. _: Sixteen is a man in this time. You need to get your head around that fact._

_: Gyaa I know, I know. _It was hard though. I had watched Mitsuhide grow from when he was nine. So even though he looked and behaved as a man now, to me, he was still much younger. Maybe my view point would change if I did not see him for a couple of years.

_: You might want to hurry to grab a place to stand. Everyone seems to have heard about this test already and want__s__ to watch, _he added with a tone of dismay.

My eyes widened and a grin stretched across my lips. _: Nervous are we?_

_: You wish. Maybe you should not come to watch._

I broke into a jog. _: Ho ho, not a chance, _I chuckled. _I will be there in a second._

Sure enough, when I got there, there were quite a few people, both men and women alike. The higher-ups were shouting for the people to not push and shove to see the young Lord, while I pushed and shoved my way back through the crowd and into the dojo, passing the hawk-like glares of the guards. Once they saw me, they just nodded and let me through, knowing who I was.

“Ah Osamu! You made it through!” Came a bellow, accompanied by a clap on the back that sent me staggering forwards a few steps across the tatami.

“Oof!” I wheezed, turning around and there stood Dousan, big and looming as always. “Good day to you, Saito-sama,” I greeted with an awkward bow. Being in his presence was unnerving, especially since the Toki-Akechi lost the battle against him and he suggested that I become his concubine. He still had not given up on it completely.

About a dozen or so men were in the dojo proper. Then there were guards around the edge and more people beyond them trying to squeeze a look in.

“You come to my castle dressed as a man again? I will have the maids dress you in something more suitable later,” he said in his deep, rumbling voice. It was something he said every time I was at Inabayama castle.

I opened my mouth to begin another awkward reply when a hand rested on my shoulder.

“My bodyguard cannot serve her purpose if she is changed otherwise, Saito-sama” Mitsuhide said lightly, putting a slight emphasis on the possessive pronoun. “Please excuse her, but I need her to help me prepare for the test.”

Dousan grunted. “Very well,” he said with a wave of his hand. “We shall begin in a few minutes.” He walked off to another watching officer and began another conversation with him. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“How many times have I had to save you from that situation?” Mitsuhide questioned as I began setting about my task of making sure his uniform was all tied correctly and a towel was prepared.

“Not that many,” I replied around the question, watching a servant carry a bamboo katana towards us.

“Ne, ne! Can you see him?” The voices of some excited young maids reached my ears.

“Yes! He is so handsome!” One sighed dreamily. I grinned at the comments of Mitsuhide for they tended to make him feel awkward.

“You should grow a beard,” he said flatly, ignoring the girls. “Then I won’t have to get you out of that situation at all for you will not be in it.”

I gaped.

“Osamu,” Dousan called, forcing me to drag my stare from Mitsuhide to the big Lord. Getting called right now was not the best time.

Next to Dousan stood a middle-aged man with long hair tied back. He looked different to the other officers in the hall, not to mention familiar. So I approached Dousan once again and Mitsuhide accompanied me.

“I would like you to meet Tsumaki Norihiro, head of the Tsumaki family in Mino,” Dousan introduced.

My eyebrows shot up. This man was Hiroko’s father. No wonder the face was familiar. I bowed. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Tsumaki-sama,” I said.

He smiled. “Likewise. It is a pleasure to meet you, Akechi Osamu. The rumours surrounding you are impressive.”

I pressed my lips together. “Is . . . is that so?” I laughed nervously. Life is this time was very different to my modern time. There was very little gossip or rumours about me if any, for I was invisible to almost all. Here, it seemed to be the opposite to my disbelief.

“My daughter is also here,” Norihiro continued. “I shall introduce her to you both.”

I was about to say I had already met her when Mitsuhide beat me to it. “I look forward to it, Tsumaki-sama.”

Mitsuhide and Hiroko.

Dousan clapped to signal he was ready to begin and Norihiro wished Mitsuhide luck. I took Mitsuhide’s bamboo katana from the waiting servant while Mitsuhide put on his mask. Just before his mask went on, I caught the hint of faint interest in his expression. Interest regarding Hiroko. His future wife. And then there was me, a woman he said to grow a beard.

I handed the bamboo katana to Mitsuhide in a way that I punched him in the stomach with the hilt, causing his breath to whoosh out upon impact. He managed to stop himself from doubling over.

“That’s what you get for telling a girl to grow a beard,” I hissed. “Now stay handsome for the ladies. Don’t show them that you’re in pain.”

He took the bamboo katana and through an equally dark smile that was masked with innocence – had I seen his expression behind the mask – he murmured, “You will pay me back for that.”

Mitsuhide turned and I retreated to kneel on the side-lines with his towel. He would be fighting five matches in total and had to win three. He and his opponent stood face to face, katana’s poised. The referee stood beside them. The watchers fell silent with anticipation.

“Hajime!” He shouted. I did not pay much attention to the first match for I was still seething over the suggestion of growing a beard.

_Grow a beard? Keh! I’m a girl, damn it. If I was more out of control like most girls of my time then I would have slapped you for that remark, Mitsuhide-sama._

He won the first match and then lost the second. Losing the second caught my attention and my annoyance dissipated with my increasing focus on the fights. Of course, I hoped he would win and pass the test overall. He was very skilled with the sword, but better with the spear. But I did worry. Becoming an officer would put him on the path that was recorded in history.

It would also mean that his chances of being killed were much higher.

The matches continued and at the end, Mitsuhide won three, drew one and lost one. The watchers erupted in an excited babble as they began to leave, whereas some stayed behind in the hopes of offering Mitsuhide their praises at the end when he was free. He wiped the sweat from his face and neck while I took his katana and mask.

Norihiro stepped back towards the veranda and looked to be talking to someone, so I turned my attention to him in curiosity while Mitsuhide spoke with Dousan. A girl stepped up onto the veranda and I paused what I was doing with surprise. It was Hiroko. She had been watching the matches.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” Norihiro said. “Allow me to introduce my eldest daughter, Hiroko.”

The girl looked at Mitsuhide and her cheeks reddened. “It-it is an honour to meet you, Mitsuhide-sama,” she stammered nervously with her face burning. I brought my hand up to my mouth to cover my a small smile of amusement. If only this were the modern day, then I would not have to hide my excitement and I could grin openly like any normal girl.

“Hiroko-hime,” Mitsuhide greeted with a graceful bow and a kind smile. “It is pleasure to be graced with your presence. I hope the matches were not too violent.”

“No, no! They were a marvel to watch. Mitsuhide-sama moves with amazing grace and speed.”

I had to turn away to school my expression. But I could only allow myself a few seconds of freedom before I then tried hard to compose my face and I turned back again, watching the exchange between Mitsuhide and Hiroko.

The two stood wonderfully together, with Mitsuhide standing half a head taller than Hiroko already. The height comparison between them was very fitting and attractive. There was a nice air about them. They were a samurai Lord and a young Lady of noble upbringing and delicate nature. It was a perfect fit for these times.

My amusement and pleasure at seeing the two finally meet was at the forefront of my mind. Yet somewhere in the back of the same mind I suddenly found myself thinking that Mitsuhide deserved something more.

_Well, finally they’ve met. Now it’s just a matter of time,_ I thought, trying to push my unexpected and sudden doubts away. This was history, and I had to ensure that it followed its course.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

I sat at Mitsuhide’s right hand, eating dinner with the rest of the Lords and Ladies. Though to be honest, there were only three Ladies – Miyoshino as the wife of Saito Dousan, Hiroko, and myself. Other females in the large room were the maids who brought the food and sake, pouring the spirit for the Lords and Miyoshino – and me, unfortunately.

“Osamu-sama, forgive me, but I am still surprised that you are a woman,” Hiroko said shyly.

Dousan laughed. “Well no one ever said that she was a man. It is because she dresses as a man more so than a woman that most people believe she is male.”

“Osamu has a wonderful skill in switching between the two it seems,” Norihiro mused. “For she suits both appearances. Why do you not have her dressed as a woman more often, Akechi-sama?”

Mitsuhide sipped his sake with a neutral expression. “She is my bodyguard, not a maid.” He cast a glance at me with a gaze I could not read, before he turned his attention to Hiroko, leaving me puzzled. That look was odd.

I drank my miso soup, letting them exchange words about me fly over my head. I still felt somewhat miffed that I had been ordered by Dousan to wear feminine clothing for this meal, and it was impossible for me to refuse. Therefore I was dressed in attire fitting of a true Lady of the samurai – which was tight, restricting and uncomfortable, with an insane amount of layers of silk which made the whole attire very heavy. I could barely move my legs. When I did dress as a woman, the simple kimono or yukata of a maid or normal woman was best.

As I sat there, I listened to the conversations being exchanged across the room. I cast careful glances at Mitsuhide and Hiroko occasionally, analysing their body language and tone. Mitsuhide looked controlled and interested but as usual now, it was becoming somewhat difficult to tell what was behind that. I probably knew him better than anyone but as he grew, he was no longer the little boy who liked to act high and mighty on occasions. That inquisitive glint in his eyes was hidden and he was learning how to swallow his pride to earn the love of those around him. He was becoming composed, yet humble at the same time.

It was very easy to read Hiroko though. She kept her gaze down for most of the time. Her posture was stiff and she cast shy glances up at Mitsuhide every now and then. She blushed often. Such behaviour would usually irritate me. Shy and quiet girls often tended to be pathetic. Some of Hiroko’s behaviour did irritate me as a matter of fact now that I was having the opportunity to analyse her. However, she seemed to have a good heart. Her plain face also seemed to enhance that attribute. Therefore I smiled. Such qualities would complement Mitsuhide nicely.

The evening bore into the night and Dousan then stood, holding up a bowl of sake. “I award this toast to Mitsuhide-sama, who has passed both my mental and physical tests in becoming my new administrator and officer. Welcome to the ranks, Mitsuhide-sama!”

“Congratulations!”

“Congratulations, Mitsuhide-sama!” Everyone cheered, holding up their sake bowls.

“Cheers,” I murmured in English, earning a look from Mitsuhide which softened with warmth.

“Thanks,” he whispered, also in English.

Over the years I had continued teaching him English to the point of being able to hold basic conversations in the language. They were not complex conversations, but one could classify him as fluent enough now. I did not think he would be able to keep up the enthusiasm to learn, seeing as most people lost interest early on. But his interest remained as strong as it did when he first saw my notes in English seven years ago. He was better at listening to and speaking it than the other two forms, mainly because I had no English books aside from what I had written in my own hand. Not just that though, from my experience, most people found the writing and reading the hardest when learning any language, unless it was a European language like French or German, so one could make an educated guess to what was written by looking at the similarities in spelling.

“Forgive me, my Lords and Ladies,” Hiroko finally said. “I am very tired therefore I fear I must retire.”

“Of course, Hiroko-hime,” Miyoshino said before her husband could. “A lovely young girl cannot stay up too late otherwise she will develop wrinkles soon.”

Hiroko looked shocked and touched her face worriedly. “Wrinkles? I am not yet fifteen.”

I chuckled. “It will be a long while before you have to worry about such things, Hiroko-hime. Apply creams to your skin to keep it moist. Dry skin is no good for the body.”

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow at my comment.

“Who would have thought that you know about how to treat the skin?” Dousan chortled. “It is an odd thing to hear Osamu talk of womanly things. Ow!”

Miyoshino smiled innocently as she pinched the skin above her husband’s knee. “Dearest,” she said sweetly. “Do remember that Osamu is a Lady of the Akechi clan and an officer of Mino.”

Hiroko looked to me with something akin to awe. “It is said that Osamu-sama is knowledgeable in many things. May I have the pleasure of being able to talk to you tomorrow?”

“That probably won’t be the best idea,” Yoshitatsu mused. “She will be suffering with a painful head tomorrow.”

Hiroko looked confused. “Why so?”

Yoshitatsu smirked. “Mitsuhide cannot hold his alcohol too well, therefore Osamu will have to drink in his place. She can hold hers quite well.”

Mitsuhide sighed. “Yoshitatsu, was that really necessary?”

Yoshitatsu shrugged. “I am merely stating the after-torture you put your bodyguard through after nights like this.”

If that comment had made Mitsuhide guilty, then he did not show it. I knew him well enough now to note that he cared about those around him more so than any other Lord or Lady I had ever encountered, therefore feeling guilty was something that he was plagued with when a certain event occurred. I however seemed to be an exception to that. While his expression would fall in sympathy to others, it was sometimes the opposite of me. I guess he knew me well enough to know that I would not take insult to his stricter side. We were like best friends who could throw insults at each other and laugh at them as jokes, for that was what they really were.

In the end, Hiroko bid everyone goodnight, retreating back with her maids. The rest of us stayed and the dishes were cleared away. True enough, Mitsuhide had stopped drinking and I was forced to drink instead.

“I am impressed, Osamu-sama,” Norihiro said. “You drink very well.”

I fanned my face which was feeling hot. “Thank you, Tsumaki-sama.” I had reached the happy phase of drunkenness, and so enjoyed the rest of the night. It seemed like my father’s prediction was coming true after all. He believed I would become just as foolish as he was in his younger years. I never believed him, and yet here I was, drinking like him laughing like him, telling stories like him.

Like father, like daughter.

* * * * *

That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Mitsuhide remained awake. The moonlight was fleeting, coming out and then hiding between the clouds which drifted across the night sky. He leant against the banister of the veranda of the castle’s second floor, gazing down at the town in the distance. Yet it was not what he was seeing entirely.

He glanced behind him. The screen behind was slightly open. Aki was beyond it, on the floor. Judging from her position, she had been closing the screen and then simply passed out on the spot from the sake. Therefore the screen was still open, and she was still face down on the tatami.

Mitsuhide exhaled softly, his expression falling slightly as a pang of guilt hit him upon considering whether he should just leave her like that. He turned and opened the screen, letting his shadow fall over her.

It looked like she had thrown the heavy outer garments off as soon as she got into the room, leaving her in just the simple white under-kimono. Mitsuhide went down on one knee and sighed, pushing her over onto her back gently. Aki did not stir, the alcohol having put her deep into sleep.

Truth was, he did have a strong endurance for alcohol. He was of Oni blood after all. But he wanted others to see him as weaker, hiding his true strength. Alcohol still affected him as any other person though.

Mitsuhide brushed Aki’s hair from her face. His fingers tingled where it touched her skin.

He sighed. Alcohol was dangerous, made worse that Dousan forced Aki to wear such feminine attire. It made him remember the first time he had seen her dressed like that, when he was still young and his mother had made her dress so.

There were a few reasons as to why he supported Aki’s desire to not wear such clothing. One such reason was the reason he gave to everyone else. She was his bodyguard and she could fight far better when in the looser clothing of a man, or even in a simple kimono.

The other reason was one he had kept to himself.

Another presence neared him, but he did not react to it. A woman stood close by on the veranda.

“She is a very beautiful woman, both physically and in her heart,” Miyoshino said gently.

“She does not think so,” Mitsuhide murmured.

“Honest women never do. Which is why they are rare and precious,” Miyoshino gazed up at the sky. “You will need to watch out for her as much as she does for you. Soon enough, people are going to start noticing her lack of ageing.”

Mitsuhide picked Aki up, an easy weight with his Oni strength. “She will have to live as we do, moving from place to place, dressing differently, behaving differently, all to make it seem like she is ageing.” He stepped silently to Aki’s futon and laid her down on it properly.

“It makes me wonder,” Miyoshino breathed.

Mitsuhide glanced at his aunt. “Wonder what?”

She turned her gaze to him. It was an old gaze of wisdom. She was a Pureblood of great age.

“I wonder what she is,” Miyoshino said, holding his gaze until she looked away. Mitsuhide looked back down at Aki. Her sleeping face was peaceful and carefree. It was an expression which forever took away any tension and wariness that was in his body.

Mitsuhide smiled faintly. “She is my friend.” He draped the quilt over her.

“Is she really?” Miyoshino whispered.

Mitsuhide frowned. “What do you mean, Miyoshino-hime?”

Miyoshino remained silent, and the silence stretched on. “What do you think of Hiroko?” She finally asked.

Mitsuhide’s eyes narrowed, sharp enough to know that Miyoshino had danced around his question. Upon hearing Hiroko’s name, he thought of the day just gone, of the girl two years younger than he. Hiroko was a pleasant girl with an honest expression. Her shy innocence was attractive, even if her looks were average.

“_Looks aren’t everything, Mitsuhide-sama,” _Aki had chided him once. _“What is the point in being drawn to someone with a beautiful and handsome appearance when they have the heart and mind of a snake? Do you want a trophy just for aesthetics? Or do you want a loyal companion and friend who will value you for _who_ you are?”_

Mitsuhide’s expression softened. _You truly are a wise friend, Aki_, he thought. He looked back up at Miyoshino.

“Why do you ask?”

Miyoshino smiled slightly. “Aki is expecting something.”

Mitsuhide blinked. “Expecting what? How can you tell, Miyoshino-hime?”

She merely tapped her eyes behind her smile. “These eyes are old. I can tell many things.” She then turned. “Good night, Mitsuhide-sama. Choose wisely.”

By the time Mitsuhide had registered her last statement, Miyoshino had already gone, leaving him sitting beside Aki.

_Choose what?_ He thought to himself.

Aki stirred. “Hurry up and . . . stop . . . faffing about, Dad . . .” She muttered in her mothertongue in her sleep, rolling over so her back faced Mitsuhide. He sat as still as a rock, and then relaxed as Aki fell silent again, her breathing slow and steady.

He found himself smiling at Aki’s comment in her sleep. Throughout the years, he had noticed that she spoke sometimes in her sleep. It was difficult to decipher on some occasions, for her ramblings were in English and slurred together with tiredness. But just hearing such talk sometimes made him want to laugh from the light-heartedness of it all.

Was Hiroko just as entertaining as Aki? They were both polite, both with good hearts from what Mitsuhide had been able to judge of Hiroko so far.

But Hiroko was fragile and openly nervous, while Aki was strong and masked any nervousness behind a mask that was impossible to penetrate. Aki was intelligent and adventurous. Was Hiroko the same?

For some reason, Mitsuhide’s gaze was drawn to Aki’s neck which was exposed. Even in the gloom of night, his Oni eyes could see the faint scars from acne along her jawline which Aki said she had suffered from in her youth.

Hiroko also had scars. Much of her nervous personality must have come from that. There was a lack of confidence in Hiroko in her appearance. Then again, it was the same as Aki. It had made Aki rather sensitive to the topic of appearances, to the extent that she no longer seemed to respond with much interest in it anymore.

It made Mitsuhide curious as to what went on in her head. He could tell the thoughts of many around him from their reaction to certain appearances. Hiroko was a good example. She had made little eye-contact with him today, and when she did, she blushed. It seemed to be a normal reaction.

Yet Aki did not respond in any such way. Her usual reaction would be a raised eyebrow in questioning and would say, ‘what?’

Curiosity burned within him as he reached to brush a few strands of hair from her neck. _Why are you so different to other women, Aki?_

The tips of his fingers touched her neck. _Eighteen year old women are still very young. Only two years older than me._

Her skin was warm. It was like a spark of energy kissed his fingertips, and he froze.

“_Choose wisely.”_

Mitsuhide stood abruptly and exited the room, closing the screen behind him and stood on the veranda. His body was strangely hot. His heart was beating fast. Women in thoughts and conversations . . .

_Wait, _he realised. _Was Miyoshino referring to them? Chose the _women _wisely?_

He was a man now, no longer a boy. He stared at his hand, the fingers that touched Aki’s neck.

Miyoshino said that Aki was expecting something with Hiroko. Or was it him? Or was it both? But . . .! He had only just met her, whereas he had known Aki for seven years.

He pressed his hand to his forehead and shut his eyes. That was not a good idea. Behind his closed eyelids he saw the nape of Aki’s neck and the curve of her jawline, feeling the comfortable peace he felt when in her presence.

“Not good,” he whispered under his breath with realisation.

_I have come to like her more than I should._

* * * * *

I sat against a tree at a perfect angle, so that the sun was behind me, and the wind blew into my face from the front. It felt nice against my pounding head. I sat by myself, back in men’s clothing, with my katana resting against my chest and arms tucked into my sleeves. My eyes were closed. The sound of the wind through the trees was soft, mingled with sweet birdsong which brought lightness to the rustling of the leaves.

This was definitely another good factor of living in the past than in the future. There was more time here, less pressure pushed on my shoulders by society to get things done. Here, I could rest for a bit, allowing some time to adjust to the pain of a hangover. But that was one bad thing about living here. In the twenty-first century, I simply said no to peer pressure. Here though, I had no choice.

If Mitsuhide could drink better, then my hangovers would not be as bad as they were.

“Your senses really do decrease severely under the effects of alcohol.”

I cracked open an eye. Mitsuhide stood nearby, leaning against another tree.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” I croaked. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he said, sitting down against the next closest tree to me. “I could have struck you down quite easily.”

I closed my eyes again, feeling embarrassed. He must have seen me dozing then just a moment before. I did not hear him approach at all. Aside from the wind and the trees, the pounding in my head was all I could hear.

“Do you not begin your new post today?” I asked when I could think clearer as I wondered what he was doing here.

“I am on a break at the moment. The workload is much.”

I frowned and opened my eyes. “But it’s not even midday yet.”

“I’ve been working since dawn, and I am tired already,” he sighed.

I winced. “Since dawn?” I could barely keep my eyes open as it were. “How much work is there?”

“A lot. Saito-sama was not joking when he said his last administrator was incompetent. It will take me days, maybe even weeks, to get the mess back in order!”

I looked at him. He looked overwhelmed. So young and yet already with such a heavy responsibility. But he was a young man now, and so would be given duties as expected from a man.

I smiled at him gently. “You will do a superb job as an admin. You have energy and discipline.”

He rested his head back against the trunk of the tree. His loosely tied hair fluttered in the breeze. “But it is still a huge job. I wonder if I can cope.”

I laughed softly. That laugh quickly turned into a dry sob as the motion thumped against my skull. I pressed my hand against my head.

“Let me give you some advice, Mitsuhide-sama,” I eventually said once the pounding had eased. “It may seem like the workload is too much, that you will never get it all complete. But you will find that in the end, it is never as much as you think. Starting is the hardest step. Once that is passed, just do a set amount of work every day and soon it will be finished. Like I said, you are disciplined and strict, you don’t like disappointing people. Therefore I know you will do a good job of it.”

Quiet stretched between us. But it was a peaceful quiet. It made me feel at ease, just being in his presence. One did not always have to reply to avoid an awkward silence. I knew Mitsuhide well to know that he was a deep thinker.

“Aki.”

I drew my gaze towards him from the sky. “Mm?”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

I blinked. “For what?”

He looked at me for a very long time, beginning to make me feel self-conscious, before he snorted softly and smiled. “I had best head back. Long breaks on the first day do not give a very good impression,” he said with finalisation, standing up.

“Wait,” I blurted, also rising. “Do you need any assistance with your work? I can . . . help . . .” I trailed off, swaying with dizziness. Mitsuhide caught my arm before I lost my balance.

“Careful,” he chided. “You should know better than to rise quickly after last night.”

I stood with my feet apart, staring at the floor and waited for my vision to clear. His grip was firm, stronger than it appeared. A funny feeling squeezed my chest and I frowned. I shook it from my head.

“I’m fine,” I said. “There is a lot of work to be done, Mitsuhide-sama. I know you can do it all by yourself but we are here for a limited number of days.”

His hand slipped from my arm and I felt like I lost something.

“It is alright,” he said. “I have an assistant. And Akito helps me when he can.”

I sighed in relief. “Good. That makes me feel much better.”

“Your concern is touching,” he chuckled. I opened my mouth to defend myself when he carried on. “Seeing as you’re already on your feet, you should walk back with me. Hiroko-hime is anxiously waiting for an opportunity to talk to you.”

I stood where I was, debating whether I should go or not. My normal twenty-first century reaction would be a very blunt ‘no.’ My head hurt, I felt sick and I just wanted to lie down. However, here was different. Even with my pounding head which was dehydrated, there was an image of respect I had to uphold here.

“Fine,” I sighed, walking back up the hill with Mitsuhide through the trees. “What do you think of her, Mitsuhide-sama?” I asked as I stepped carefully, trying to walk in a way so it did not cause my head to jolt with the movement.

He cast me a thoughtful glance. “She is well-mannered and soft-spoken, someone I believe who has a good and beautiful heart behind her appearance.”

I smiled to myself, nodding. “Would you like to talk to her more?”

“I suppose that would be nice, provided I have time,” he mused.

“Make time then,” I said. Mitsuhide looked at my oddly.

“How do you expect me to do that?” He asked dryly. “You should see my new office before you say that.”

I snorted. “Trust me, compared to the workload of my world, yours doesn’t seem so bad.” I paused where I was and looked back down the hill at the town below and the rolling hills in the distance. It was a beautiful sight.

“Back in my time, I had to study every day,” I murmured. “The older we got, the more we had to study and work and less time was available for the fun things. It drove me insane. Suicide was a common thought in my mind, for if I could not write my stories, then it was better if I was never alive in the first place. I live to think and write, but society was taking that away. So I made time. I gave up many hours of sleep just to be able to do the little things I enjoyed, because if I didn’t, I would go mad. It made me very tired as a result. They say that everyone is born for a reason, that life is precious so you should enjoy it while it lasts. But what is the point if one cannot achieve any of their desires in life? How can one enjoy it if you are doing something that makes you miserable? You have to work in order to survive. You wake up, you work, you eat, you sleep, and you wake up again. Only those with money could live as they dreamed. The rest of us struggled.” My voice was bitter. “But, at least we valued companionship more so than the rich. The rich were greedy. Their money corrupted them, as it does in every era.”

While I wished to see my real family, the more I stayed here, the less I wanted to go back. I could not face living in the confines of modern human society again. There was so much pressure to get a good education and go to university and get a degree. That would have been my path had I not wiggled my desperate way out into writing. True, I would not earn much of a salary as a writer, but I was content with it. I could find work in a shop to earn enough money for rent and food and bills, then spend every other bit of time in my writing.

However, the world and modern day society was unstable. It changed and became harder on a rising exponential curve. Soon enough, my life as a writer would not be enough to keep me alive.

“I never knew,” Mitsuhide said softly.

I turned back to find him watching me with sorrowful eyes. “It is in the past,” I exhaled with a slight smile. “I am sure of one thing though – I am happy to be here.” And truly, I was.

Mitsuhide returned that smile and turned away. “As are the rest of us,” he said while I followed him back up the hill towards the castle.

* * * * *

The next day, I walked through the town with Hiroko. Given her delicate and fragile nature, I did not think her father would allow it. But he seemed to be happy with it to my surprise, and so Hiroko, two of her maids and I, strolled through the streets as four women cruise shopping, seeing as I was in female attire. It would have looked inappropriate for me to walk with her as a man, considering many were not aware that I was a woman. Rumours would have started and soon enough, they probably would have started shipping us together. It would have been worse for Hiroko, being the obvious woman.

I felt somewhat bare, walking without my katana. It made me raise a questioning eyebrow of irony at myself. Although I would never think like a true samurai, there were some aspects of their code which I carried. The katana is their honour, their life. Without it, they were nothing. In place of a katana, I held a dagger tucked within my kimono.

“Do you go out shopping often, Hiroko-hime?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said lightly with a bright expression. “I am usually accompanied by a few guards though, so I never feel entirely comfortable with shopping to my heart’s content because their expressions are always so cold.”

I smirked. “Men do not like shopping. Mind you, neither do I to be honest.”

Hiroko was shocked. “Osamu-sama does not enjoy shopping?” Her maids also looked stunned.

My eyes trailed the stalls we passed. “Not really, especially clothes shopping. But I enjoyed shopping for food and books. I could spend hours in a book shop.”

“You must be very well educated. The Akechi Lords must have taught you well,” she said with admiration.

I looked away so they could not see how my expression fell. “They did.”

_But not in academics_, I added silently. _That knowledge is from my own time._

“Oh! Hiroko-hime! Look at these rolls of silk,” one of her maids exclaimed, hurrying over to a tailor shop which was draped in beautiful silks and elaborate embroidery.

“How stunning!” Hiroko shared her maid’s exclamation, viewing a pale pink roll embroidered with lotus flowers.

“Such fine needlework,” I breathed. “And all done by hand!”

Hiroko glanced at me. “You speak as if that is an odd thing, Osamu-sama.”

I blinked. “D-don’t mind me,” I stammered, dismayed that I had let such a statement out and went to look at a deep green roll of silk embroidered with silver ducks in flight.

_Boy, have to remember the era I’m in, _I mentally kicked myself. Machines for mass production were not invented yet.

The three of them spent some time fussing around until Hiroko decided on the pale pink silk and bought it.

“Do you like pink?” I asked her, seeing as her face looked very pleased with her purchase.

She nodded. “It is a lovely feminine colour of delicacy. It is warm and innocent. Does Osamu-sama not think so?”

“Blue is my favourite colour.”

“That is an unusual colour for a woman to like,” Hiroko said curiously with a hint of nervousness, worried that she may have offended me with her statement.

I laughed gently. “Indeed. But it is a good colour, for it is the colour of the seas and the skies.”

“Have you seen the sea before?” Hiroko asked. The tone of her voice made me look back at her. She was very young, therefore unlikely to have travelled much. Judging from her tone, she had never seen the sea, but wanted to. It was a common wish for many of those that lived inland.

“Seen it?” I repeated. “I’ve been on it and sailed on it.”

Hiroko’s eyes widened, and she and her maids listened to me talk about the sea as we continued our shop for the rest of the morning. It was nice, seeing their eyes glitter with imagination. Everyone had dreams.

* * * * *

Soon, our time to leave Inabayama came.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” Norihiro said before we left. “I would be honoured if you could come to visit us soon at my manor.”

“The honour would be mine,” Mitsuhide said with a bow.

Nou tugged on my sleeve. “I expect you to return soon, cousin Osamu,” she said with dignity, like a little princess. “I will be much better at conkers when you come back.”

I grinned. “Good. You must practice and show your skills to me as proof when we next meet.”

“I shall practice with Kenji-san,” Nou declared.

“He is coming back with us I’m afraid,” I said, shooting her down already and she sniffed.

“Fine, I shall practice with Ani-ue.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“What does?” Yoshitatsu questioned with suspicion.

“A game,” Nou said.

Yoshitatsu cringed. “I am too old for games, Nou.”

“Don’t be a liar, Ani-ue,” Nou said stoutly.

I giggled. “You can never be too old for games, Yoshitatsu-sama. I still play them when I get the chance.”

Yoshitatsu looked away and harrumphed. Nou and I shared a sneaky and secretive glance as he walked off. “He likes games, doesn’t he,” I whispered.

“Of course,” Nou muttered. “He’s just too proud to admit it because he is the heir of the clan.”

We giggled, and the back of Yoshitatsu’s neck turned red with embarrassment. Before he could say some snarky comment, something else took our attention. Mitsuhide and Hiroko stood opposite each other, exchanging comments on safe journeys. Hiroko’s face was burning and Mitsuhide looked on her kindly, letting her blush go over his head as to not make her feel any more awkward than what she was already feeling. He really was a thoughtful person. A gentleman.

Hiroko bowed to him and he bowed in return, a sign that I also had to give my farewells until next time. Mitsuhide, Kenji and I mounted our horses, and began the ride back to Tara Castle.

* * * * *

**A few weeks later**

Mitsuhide sat in his room with the screens open to the garden where he admired the colours of the falling leaves, translating it into words of poetry upon his scroll.

_Fire floats from a cloudless sky,_

_Golden stars from nature’s wood,_

_Its warmth,_

_Cold,_

_Seasons pass yet felt_

_only the burning heat of summer,_

_and bitterest _ _sting of _ _winter,_

_Human touch is warm,_

_A comforting limbo beside immortal time,_

Mitsuhide heard the padded feet long before the knock came. “Mitsuhide-sama.”

“What is it, Yuko?”

“Our guests have arrived.”

Mitsuhide looked up. “Thank you, Yuko. I am on my way.”

“Very good, Mitsuhide-sama.” She rose, and left.

Mitsuhide put his brush down and analysed his incomplete work. Autumn was filled with fiery colours, but the air was cold, yet not as cold as winter. Oni cared little for the changes in seasons. It was but a fleeting sensation. However . . . human touch lingered.

The young Lord stood and left his work on the table to dry. No one was going to take it. He wondered whether he should show Aki. He found that talking to her about his poetry and the ideas in his head helped develop them further. She listened and showed an enthusiasm which urged him with his own internal excitement to write more. She suggested many ideas and offered criticism, never laughing at his work or looking at it with disappointment as some might, for he was still young, and needed much practice. But nor did she ever praise him greatly either. It was only once before when she showed such praise. Her advice was constructive.

He walked to the meeting hall and he smiled faintly to himself. Aki was easy to talk to.

Understanding.

A rare trait.

He entered the meeting hall and sat down beside Mitsuyasu who sat in the middle. From left to right, it was his mother, Mitsuhisa, Mitsuyasu, Mitsuhide, then Aki. As an adoptive daughter of Mitsukuni, she was recognised as a Lady of the clan, and she was dressed as such again today. Her appearance made him feel light. Her expression was unreadable, but it was open as always.

Before them at the other side of the hall, a man and a young woman sat, bowed before them.

“Yamagishi-sama,” Mitsuyasu said. “Welcome to Tara Castle.”

The Lord sat up. “It is a pleasure to be welcomed back, Mitsuyasu-sama. It has been a while since I have last seen everyone. Ane-ue, you look as radiant as always.”

Lady Akechi inclined her head and the Lord turned his gaze to Aki. “How beautiful you look, Osamu-sama. I am glad to see you look after my nephew well.”

Aki bowed. “Thank you, Yamagishi-sama. It is my duty.”

The Lord gestured beside him to the young woman. “This is my daughter, Chigusa.”

The young woman rose from her bow. Mitsuhide was unable to stop part of his expression from faulting upon gazing at this woman. She was truly beautiful beyond compare, with eyes as dark as onyx and skin as white as milk. She was the same age as Mitsuhide, and like Mitsuhide, she too was a Pureblood. It was in her bearing. She rose from her bow with elegant grace, yet the strength of the Oni lurked beneath.

“It is an honour to be introduced to the Akechi Lords and Ladies,” she said smoothly. “Please guide and take care of me.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

**1544; December**

It was early morning and I walked through the castle with a thick haori, still yawning as I came back from the privy.

“Seven – nearly eight – years I’ve been here and I still can’t get over the fact that there’s no soap for washing hands,” I grumbled under my breath.

There was rice balm and scrubs for baths to cleanse the skin, but nothing of the sort for washing hands like in the present day after having gone to the toilet. My disdainful expression from the present day always remained every time I came out to find there was no soap. Instead, I usually placed my hands under scalding hot water, after all, most bacteria could not survive temperatures above thirty-eight degrees – or just body temperature in general. Hence why people had fevers when they were ill. It was the body’s method of trying to kill the bacteria which made it sick.

Unfortunately, that sort of hot water was unavailable here so I just had to scrub my hands under cool or cold water.

“_The germs aren’t going to kill you,” _my father had exclaimed many times in the past. _“They’re good for you! Without them, you won’t have an immune system.”_

I scowled. “Good for you my arse,” I growled with a hint of sarcasm in English again. No wonder so many people died in these eras. Hygiene was appalling!

I sighed heavily though. My father had a point. The germs were not going to kill me, not to mention I had been vaccinated against all the deadly diseases. _And _I had yet to catch a cold since living in Japan!

_Maybe it has something to do with my lack of __ageing__,_ I pondered. Then I winced. Had I just jinxed myself?

“What strange language you utter to yourself,” a melodious voice said with an irritating ring of superiority.

It made me stiffen slightly until I quickly beat it back down, plastering on the kind smile that seemed to have earned people’s trust and loyalty in me over my twenty-five – now nearly twenty-six – years of life, both in this time and my original time.

I turned my head to the side, looking down the open tatami hall to the screens at the end. One was drawn open slightly and the young Chigusa gazed out. Even so early in the morning without all her ‘wall paint’ as my father put it, she still looked stunningly beautiful, making me feel a regretful twinge of envy.

Her gaze was cold though, as always. And even though I looked straight back at her, her gaze remained unwavering. Even though I was a Lady of the Akechi, she made no inclination to bow her head to me. Right from the beginning she carried an air of pride and arrogance, as befitting for a Japanese noblewoman. It was a trait that I despised in anyone. However, I still greeted her with my open kindness when she was first introduced a couple of weeks ago. Yet she showed nothing in return.

Despite that, I pulled on my mask and smiled in greeting with a slight nod of my head seeing as she did not. There was no way I was going to _bow_ to her first in _this _castle.

“Good morning to you too, Chigusa-hime,” I greeted with a silent jab behind my words at her utterance earlier. “I hope you slept well.”

“It was adequate.”

“Do ask Mitsuhide-sama or Lady Akechi if there is anything that can be done to make your stay more welcome,” I said gently, when my real meaning was ‘if you’re not happy with the futons then complain to someone else about it’.

“Indeed. I believe they will be more accommodating,” Chigusa said dully. “Good day.”

She slid the screen shut before I could reply, leaving me standing by myself, frowning at the screen at the insult. I kicked myself mentally for being slow with wits. I had never been good at coming up with witty comebacks against verbal comments or insults, therefore I just never got myself involved in such things. People thought it was strange, for a woman usually had a sharp tongue. They fought with words, while men fought with fists.

And I was somewhere in the middle. My verbal retorts were often nil and my combat abilities were average when I compared myself to other samurai. Someone like Chigusa was a master with verbal retorts. And she and her father were staying in Akechi castle for the winter until the snows melted and the paths were clear for travel again. I wanted to whack my head against a tree in frustration.

I had tried to be nice to her. I did not want enemies and I genuinely wanted to get along with her. But her stares were cold, her words were like ice and very often she ignored me. Thus my patience had run out. Did I do something wrong? I could not recall anything so there was no reason for her to give me the cold shoulder.

I on the other hand, I now had a good reason to return the coldness. My only issue though was that I had no idea how to deal with this sort of situation. I never had any enemies; I was never bullied; I always had a few loyal friends and those around me either respected me or simply did not know I existed. Never had I had to deal with a situation where another girl was being cold to me for no reason.

_She’s a total bitch! _I though angrily as I headed back to my room to get changed. _How am I supposed to survive a winter with her living under the same roof as me?_

A dismaying realisation struck me immediately afterwards. _She’s going to be Mitsuhide’__s__ wife. I’m going to have to be around her for as long as I serve Mitsuhide! _

My expression fell in disbelief. “You have got to be joking.” I smacked my head against the wall. _Oh Mitsuhide-sama, _I thought miserably. _Why did you have to marry Chigusa in history? Why couldn’t you just stick to one wife – Hiroko?_

I paused. History said that Mitsuhide loved Hiroko more than Chigusa, so maybe it was not as bad as it could be?

“What’s wrong, Aki-senpai? You look troubled.”

Realising I had arrived outside my room, I turned to my side to see Mitsuharu looking surprised and innocently worried. Mitsuyasu’s son was now seven years old. It was now Mitsuharu’s turn to call me ‘senpai’, after Mitsuhide. Four-year old Mitsutada – Mitsuhisa’s son – also called me senpai.

I smiled to him softly and shook my head. “Just thinking of something. What are you doing up so early?”

He beamed. “I want to go out to play in the snow with my friends in the town.”

The mention of playing in the snow brought a grin to my own features as memories of snowball fights from my home town sprang to mind. “Are you going to have a snowball fight?” I asked him.

He nodded vigorously. “Yes! Come with us. It will be fun!”

I tilted my head to the side. “Won’t it be a little unfair, having me on the team?”

Mitsuharu tapped his lips thoughtfully and shook his head. “Nope. Ichirou is going to be there.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Ichirou, eh? In that case I will come along, seeing as Mitsuhide-sama will be entertaining Chigusa-hime today.”

Somehow, Mitsuharu’s beam grew brighter. “Thank you, Aki-senpai!” He exclaimed, before spinning around and dashing away.

I chuckled as I watched him go, before I then entered my own room and closed the screen behind me. Ichirou was a year older than Mitsuhide and a very good friend of his. I too knew Ichirou and we got along surprisingly well, one of the big reasons being that he was the younger brother of Chiyo, the girl I saved six years ago from being raped by three thugs. She was twenty now.

The thought of going out to see them lightened my mood, as it always did, for they were true friends – unlike the impossible Chigusa.

I helped the maids prepare breakfast for the castle before I eventually went to get changed into my hakama. Fully dressed and tidied, I threw on a quilted haori, a scarf from Mitsuhisa, and went outside into the main courtyard. The pure white beauty of freshly fallen snow never ceased to take my breath away.

Bending down, I scooped up a handful of snow and gazed at it closely, looking at the fine ice crystals that made snow what it was. Snow looked so soft, but its biting coldness stung my hands which melted the snow to icy water, which trickled off my fingers. Soon enough, I waved the remaining snow from my hands and wiped them dry on my haori, and then slid them into a pair of leather gloves which I received from Mitsuyasu.

“Aki-senpai!” Mitsuharu called, leaping down from the veranda into the deepest pile of snow he could find, sending flurries of it exploding around him.

I laughed. “Careful in the snow. You may slip.”

Mitsuharu stomped through the snow to leave his footprints in the areas which had not yet been disturbed by the guards. “I won’t slip,” he declared. “Now let’s go!”

“Alright,” I chuckled, nodding to the guards as we left the castle grounds and walked to the town. Mitsuharu kicked through the snow so that it flurried all around him with a gentle ‘poof’ upon every kick. I picked up a handful of snow and compressed it in my hands, before throwing it up into the air, and booted it when it descended to the right level. It skittered through the air in broken clumps and pummelled against the nearby trees.

“Wah!” He gasped. “I didn’t know Aki-senpai could kick like that!”

I grinned. Physical education was compulsory in my secondary school, and I was good at it, aside from sports like football, cricket, rugby, hockey etc. Still though, I learnt them.

Mitsuharu created his own snowball and kicked it. It soared through the air with fragments falling from it as it flew like a shooting star.

“Shall we see who can kick the furthest?”

“Yes! . . . No! That’s not fair. You will win because you’re older.”

“Will I?” I challenged playfully. “I may be older, but my strength is limited.”

I was a human. He was an Oni. Even if he was seven, his strength would be equal to mine. In the end, Mitsuharu sighed. “True. Alright let’s have a contest. If I win then I can pick whose team to be on for the snowball fight and if I lose then I can’t pick.”

I smiled lightly. “Alright.”

For the rest of the walk down, we kicked snowballs into the air. Mitsuharu – being a boy who enjoyed those kick-ball games anyway – won.

We arrived at the town by the bridge over the river where a bunch of children of varying ages were gathered. Their ages were anything between six and seventeen. Most were boys but there were some girls there too. Two figures who stood out to my eyes were Chiyo, looking like the gentle, responsible motherly figure. And then there was Ichirou with his loud personality.

Upon our arrival, Ichirou looked up and grinned. “Yo, Osamu! What’s up?” He held out his hand and I high-fived it, returning the grin.

“Looks like the teams are going to be divided between us then to make the playing field fair,” I mused with a hand on my hip while he crossed his arms and he smirked. The tension of the challenge sizzled between us as we stood face to face like gangster leaders.

“You’re on.”

It often amazed me that this young man was such good friends with Mitsuhide. Their personalities were so different. Mitsuhide was well-composed, kind and thoughtful, while Ichirou was rowdy and enthusiastic. I got along with him very well because of that. He reminded me of my teenage years from the twenty-first century, so hanging around him was like a breath of fresh air for me. I could be like my original self. When I was with the children of the town, I was just plain Osamu. It had taken the people of the town some getting used to, but now they had accepted it and treated me as one of their own and as a friend, not as a Lord or Lady.

The children buzzed around Mitsuharu and I as we were the last to arrive, until Chiyo managed to clear some of them away and sighed with relief when she finally reached me. “You’re like honey for the bees, Osamu-san.”

I chuckled. “It’s nice for them to see that some of us who live in the castle are not proud nobles. Are you sure you’re warm enough, Chiyo? I don’t want you to catch a cold.” She had her quilted haori wrapped around her tightly.

She smiled and raised her shoulders so her scarf tickled her ears. “I am quite warm enough. The scarf you gave me is very warm.”

“I gave that to you years ago. It’s still effective?”

“Even if it wasn’t, my Ane-ue would still wear it,” Ichirou butted in. “It’s too bad you turned out to be a woman, Osamu. If you were a man then maybe you both would have made a nice couple. You are the kind of brother-in-law that I would wish to have.”

I blinked, feeling my face turn red. When Chiyo first met me, I was a man. Did she like me in that way? Because I saved her?

I did not have a chance to say anything back as Chiyo beat me to it. “You are a terrible little brother,” she exclaimed, her face was bright red and she thwacked him over the head. “Why would you say that? You will not get any of the lunch that I made for everyone now.”

“Ehh?! That’s not fair!”

“It’s what you deserve!”

They bickered and I snickered in amusement. Even if that was how Chiyo felt, I still saw her as a dear friend and always would.

Mitsuharu stepped onto the bridge wall so he was taller than everyone else, drawing everyone’s attention so we all fell silent.

“Right,” he announced. “Let’s head out to the fields where we can then select our teams.”

All of us agreed and so we walked out of the town into the field just before the forest. Already some of the children were chortling away and throwing snowballs at each other.

“Alright!” Ichirou called. “We’ll split into two teams which will be led by Osamu and me. Any objections?”

They all shook their heads and Ichirou and I stood at the front of the group. “Before we pick, Mitsuharu won a contest against me on the way here so he can chose whose team he is on. After that, it will be as normal.”

They looked to him and he stepped over to Ichirou. “I’ll be on his team this time seeing as I was on yours last.”

I placed my hand over my heart. “You hurt my feelings, Mitsuharu,” I said with a slight catch of my voice, wondering if my little act would sway him.

His expression actually faltered, when Ichirou held a hand out in front of him. “Don’t be fooled, Mitsuharu,” Ichirou said sneakily. “She is just acting.”

Mitsuharu harrumphed. “I knew that.”

I chuckled and turned my attention back to the group waiting. I pointed at one of the young boys of eight-years old. “Kei.”

He pumped his fist. “Yes! First pick!” He dashed to me and stood looking back at the others with a proud expression.

“Taka, you’re with me,” Ichirou said. The boy of the same age grinned self-righteously.

We carried on picking until all were picked and there were two teams of ten each.

“Group huddle,” I said, and we all huddled together in a tight ring.

“We are so going to win,” one of the boys whispered smugly.

I tutted. “Did you forget that my team lost last time? Ichirou is a formidable player with a strategic mind. He may be much younger than me but he is no less capable.”

“He _only_ just won,” a girl reminded me.

“Still though,” I began lightly. “It meant he had the better strategy for that fight. Now, here’s the plan. Pair up.”

They did exactly that and I numbered the pairs.

“Pairs one and two will attack from the front while three and four circle in from afar.” I drew the plan out in the snow to demonstrate. “It’s likely that he will have something in place for pairs three and four to intercept them. While he is distracted with the frontal assault and the side attacks, pair five will split. One of you will run in for the strike while he is occupied. But it may also be possible that he will have something prepared, so the one going in for the strike is actually the decoy, while Kei then comes up behind and finishes the fight.”

I drew in the snow the final line which went straight through the bigger blob which was Ichirou. The children watched intently, their expressions serious. They nodded in understanding and I put my hand into the centre of the group and they all put their hands on top of mine with a grin.

“Three, two, one, White Tiger!” We all exclaimed, throwing our hands into the air.

When I had first introduced this group tradition, they were all curious and suspicious about it, considering it did not exist in these days. But the action now spread like wildfire amongst the town’s children.

“Three, two, one, Red Fox!” Ichirou’s team exclaimed a moment after ours. The team names did not change. Ichirou was Red Fox and I was White Tiger, so whoever was on our teams adopted our team names. Now though over the years, they had somehow become our nicknames. Mitsuhide was the same, his name being the White Falcon. It was fitting, as Falcon did indeed become an alias of his in history.

The children lined up with plenty of space between them all as we took the opportunity of having a vast and wide field. Ichirou and I stood back while the children gathered snowballs into their hands.

As the team leaders and being much older and more physically capable, it was a general rule that we were not allowed to attack. We could only dodge. I was even more restricted than Ichirou in that respect for my reaction times was the best due to fighting on the battlefield. The end result was the same though. If one snowball hit us, then we lost.

Ichirou held his hand high and both lines of children tensed.

“Go!” He shouted, flinging his hand down. Young battle cries split the air and snowballs arched through the sky with incredible intensity.

I watched with a grin despite myself, barking out orders. There were no snowball fights like this back where I came from. This was like a mini-battlefield with tactics and all, except there were children rather than warriors, and snowballs instead of katanas and arrows.

The snow fight ensued. The children ran, threw and some were even knocked off their feet from the force of snowballs hitting their faces. One would think that they would start crying and sulking like any normal child. But not these children. Their faces were determined and they smirked, screamed and laughed.

Ichirou and I ducked and dodged the snowballs that were thrown our way. It seemed like neither of us could get the upper hand for very long as our orders caused shifts in defence and offence, sometimes covering more ground and other times losing it.

However, I watched Kei sneak behind while Ichirou was busy dealing with pair four and then the decoy. It was very hard not to feel the excitement bubbling within my chest as Kei got closer. I could almost taste the victory!

Until Ichirou glanced at me with a faint hint of . . . nearing triumph. I had been too engrossed in enjoying the active part of the fight that I failed to notice.

My eyes sharpened, immediately sensing a nearby presence behind me. “Crap!” I cursed under my breath.

I ducked and spun to the left, hearing the whoosh of a snowball pass barely a few centimetres from my shoulder. But that was not the end of it. They all knew I dodged well and quickly, therefore I abruptly changed my spin pattern to slip to the right. A snowball sighed past my face and I felt my eyebrows arch in amazement.

Glancing to my side, Ichirou’s best thrower stared at me in dismay. “So close!” He cried, clamping his hands to his head in frustration. A moment later there was a splat, followed by an ‘oof!’.

I looked back. Ichirou was as still as a statue, with fragments of snow fall from his shoulders. Behind him, Kei smiled widely, still in the position of having just thrown his snowball.

“White Tiger wins!” He announced. Half of the children erupted in cheers while the other half sighed in loss. Onlookers from the edges of the field clapped in entertainment. The adults enjoyed watching these snow fights as much as we enjoyed playing them.

“This round goes to the White Tiger,” Ichirou said in defeat. “Two more rounds yet to decide the final victor!”

So once again, we all huddled around and my team were giddy with success. Although I had warned them so many times before, they let the victory go to their heads and so we lost the second round.

The third round was intense. Both had won a round and the final decision rested on this last fight. It went on for much longer and near-misses occurred far too often to be comfortable. There was no more laughing or smiling, as everything rested on this final clash. The children were breathing heavily, seriousness was etched all over their expressions.

I watched them all move, getting as close to the positions as we had planned. The opportunity came.

“Now!” I yelled sharply.

All ten of my team leapt back twice at the same time, something which caused the Red Fox team to all hesitated for a moment in confusion. Then, my team threw a single snowball each at Ichirou. His eyes widened in shock and he jumped and stepped to dodge, thinking they were all going to throw at a single spot. He thought wrong.

I had them throw snowballs at different places that were around his original position. But Ichirou was fast and dodged them all, except for the last one which was thrown deliberately later than the rest, using the first round as a cover.

The snowball smacked him in the face.

The crowds all gasped, before cheers and claps broke out. My team whooped in joy despite their exhaustion.

I trod over to Ichirou and he snorted with a smile, shaking his head. “Even after all these years, I still struggle to take you on.”

“On the contrary, you do a hell of a lot better than you think,” I contradicted.

He smirked. “I know.” He then sighed explosively. “Damn. I’ll beat you fair and square one day in strategy for sure.”

“Of course you will. You are only seventeen and already you’re this good. By the time you are my age you will be the superior of us both.”

“Provided neither of us have died in a real battle before then.”

I mirrored his smirk and we grasped arms. “Agreed.”

The crowds dissipated and Chiyo waved the children over. “Time for lunch everyone! You must all replenish your energy!”

“Food!” Some dashed, others walked towards her. She was seated beneath a tree on a blanket where there was the least amount of snow, unpacking boxes of bentos which she then divided amongst everyone. Ichirou and I joined her last.

Ichirou sat down next to her and his eager expression turned to disbelief. “Where’s all the food gone?”

“To the children,” Chiyo huffed in dignity. “I told you that you were not getting any lunch.”

Ichirou scowled, before his expression fell into one intended to beg for food, hoping to earn Chiyo’s sympathy. “Please?” He pleaded. “Surely you have saved something.”

Chiyo looked thoughtful. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

Ichirou beamed and I sat down on Chiyo’s other side, giggling softly.

“Buuut, it’s not for you,” Chiyo finished, taking out a pair of wrapped onigiri and handed them to me. “They are for Osamu-san. She always treats me well, unlike you.”

The way Ichirou’s expression fell was so hilarious that I erupted in laughter. “You should see your face, Ichirou!”

It was priceless and he was speechless.

Though unlike his older sister, I had some sympathy for him and he had already rewarded me with an expression I would remember forever, so I shook my head at Chiyo’s offer and Ichirou snatched the onigiri before Chiyo could respond.

“Hey! Give that back!”

Ichirou was already stuffing his face and turned away as Chiyo tried to wrestle the onigiri back from him. I watched with amusement. A sibling relationship like this was healthy and entertaining. Although they fought, there was never any malice. It was playful. They knew each other well enough to actually fight like this in the first place.

It made me think of my own sister, causing me to fall quiet and the smile faded from my lips. She would be twenty-one now. Our relationship was very different to other siblings, for it was a harmonious relationship in which fighting and conflict was almost non-existent. We used to spend hours and hours talking and laughing; bitching and gossiping; discussing and gaming.

I missed her.

“Ah! Now look! You’ve upset Osamu-san!” Chiyo pinched his ear.

I looked back up at them abruptly and shook my head with a smile. “No, you’ve got the wrong idea,” I laughed. “I was just thinking how great it is to see siblings getting along.”

“Getting along?” Ichirou said with a mouth full of rice. “Do we look like we get along?” Sarcasm tainted his tone.

“Yep.”

More bickering blossomed after that.

* * * * *

I walked back with the others to the town afterwards. After everyone had had lunch, we all stayed in the fields and played lighter games, building sculptures and snowmen in the snow, sweeping snow angels with our legs and arms, for that was something else I had introduced to them. The concept of angels did not exist in Japan quite yet for Christianity had yet to be introduced. It would not be too long though. July 1549 a Roman Catholic Missionary known as Francis Xavier would make port in Japan. Later, he would be known as a Saint. It made me wonder if he would still decide to preach if he knew what devastation his preaching caused in the next century.

Amakusa.

Seeing as I had stopped ageing, did that mean I would still be around to watch those horrors unfold?

Japan was in a state of change. And how the Japanese hated this change. It was only last year that the Portuguese arrived on a shipwreck and introduced firearms to Japan’s armies.

It would be interesting to see how these firearms operated. I did not have to persuade Mitsuhide to take an interest in them as he already had. Firearms were the first physical step in actually seeing something of the modern era.

We arrived at the bridge and Taka leapt up onto the wall of it, followed by a few other children.

“Careful,” I warned worriedly. “The river is freezing! If you fall in then you could drown, even if you can swim.” There were lumps of ice floating down the river. If they fell into the water then hypothermia would be the result.

A pain split my head. I could see it. I could see one of them falling in. Shock –

“Oh great,” Ichirou muttered under his breath. “It’s that noblewoman. Has she come to amuse herself by watching the poor commoners?”

I blinked, looking up abruptly and the vision faded, nothing more than a fearful imagining. Guards had come onto the bridge. Some of them were Akechi guards while the others were Yamagishi. People moved out of the way for the two figures on the two horses. One of the horses I recognised instantly as Riku. Mitsuhide rode next to Chigusa.

As he saw the large group of us, his expression brightened with a smile. “You are all wet with snow!” He exclaimed.

“Mitsuhide-sama!” Some of the younger ones dashed up to him, Kei at the front. I chuckled, not caring when Chigusa’s eyes narrowed.

That smile faltered however when Kei tripped on the planking of the wood and fell in front of Chigusa’s horse. Before I could respond, a Yamagishi guard towered in front of the fallen boy and any smiles and laughter from the children and people around all but disappeared.

The guard picked Kei up by the collar of his clothes and shoved him to the side. “How dare you stand in our Lady’s way?” He bellowed. “What if you scared her horse?”

Such was not the behaviour of the Akechi guards who looked mildly stunned at the attitude. Mitsuhide’s bright expression darkened which shocked me.

What shocked me more was how Kei staggered backwards into the children behind. I could only watch in growing dread as the domino effect spread, finally meeting Taka on the wall. He wobbled, his arms flailed, I gasped in horror.

“Taka!” I reached out to him.

“Osa –!” He did not finish as he fell back, straight into the river.

Everyone gasped, the children leaned over the edge of the bridge, as did Ichirou and I. There was some brief splashing before Kei was taken under the arch. Ichirou turned to face the guard in rage.

“What did you do that for?” Ichirou demanded. “You didn’t have to shove him, damn it!”

The guard raised his fist. “Why you insolent –!”

“Stop it!” Mitsuhide’s voice cracked out like a whip, halting the guard where he was. Chigusa may be a noble Lady, but she was the guest here. The Akechi were the Lords of this land, not the Yamagishi.

I barely noticed though as I dashed to the other side of the bridge, taking my haori and scarf off in the process.

“Everyone get off the bridge – What are you doing, Osamu?” Mitsuhide suddenly noticed as he was about to order everyone to clear away. I glanced at him and his eyes widened as he caught onto my intentions.

“Hold them,” I said to Chiyo, throwing my haori and scarf. “And run back to your house and get a warm bath ready!”

“Osamu-san?” She stammered, fumbling over them.

“You are going to jump in after him?” Chigusa asked. She looked astonished. “Why?”

I stood on the wall and glared straight at her with rolling fury. “Do I even have to answer that?” I snarled in a high voice, high from the stupidity of her question.

“Wait –!” Mitsuhide did not finish his command as I dived over the side.

If the mind could scream when the mouth could not, then mine did. The jolt of plunging into waters that were barely above five degrees was such a horrifying shock that I could have screamed. It was like having smacked into a concrete wall from a skyscraper and exploded. My body and mind froze as the freezing water engulfed me.

It was so cold. It was beyond that. Beyond freezing! My body could not move as my horrifically stunned brain tried to comprehend the consequences of the stupidest thing I had ever done. No wonder people drowned after falling into a frozen lake or sea or river. The water was so cold that the body could not move. It was so cold that I could not think straight. It was agony.

If an adult could not survive this, then how would a child?

A child . . .

_Taka!_

I jumped in to save him. _Shit. Swim damn it! _

It took everything in my power to will my limbs to move. It was just as impossibly hard as staying conscious in my fight against the Oni six years ago. I wanted to weep. Why was I unlucky enough to be forced to have my willpower tested in such agonising ways?

Willpower was not enough though. I dredged up my fury for Chigusa and her pride. Getting along with her was now impossible. She was the reason that Taka fell into the river. She was the reason that Taka may die. She was the reason I was in that very same river!

I kicked for the surface and broke through with a painful gasp, choking. I did not realise that I had gasped underwater from the shock when I dived in.

“Osamu!”

I turned to find Ichirou running along the bank while I floated down with the current. Never had I seen such an expression of relief before on his face which now lacked all sarcasm. Further behind him, Mitsuhide urged Riku after him and Chigusa was somewhere further back.

“Where’s Taka?” I shouted between my splutters. I could not open my eyes in such freezing waters.

Ichirou pointed. And I followed his point. “There! He’s gone under a few feet I think!”

I could vaguely see the lightness of Taka’s clothing. It was growing darker. Alarm flared and I gritted my teeth, sucking a breath between them and wincing at the pain in my chest from the coldness. There was no time to wait, and I ducked back under, aiming for the direction that was closest to Ichirou’s point and estimation of depth.

It was like my brain shattered as the freezing darkness swished over my head. My hands reached out, but they caught nothing. Panic pounded harshly in my chest.

Where was he? Where was Taka? He could not die! We could not lose him. He was so young, so lively, so much a part of this community.

My kicking feet met something. It was not hard enough to be a block of ice, nor too soft to be something like clothes. It had the volume of a human.

Hoping in desperation, I reached down and my hand closed over an arm.

_Taka!_

I pulled him to me, wrapped an arm around his torso and then kicked back for the surface. I broke through with another gasp.

“Osamu!” It was both Mitsuhide and Ichirou who called this time. Mitsuhide leapt off Riku and caught a grappling hook of sorts from one of his guards who ran after him. I tried to slap Taka’s face.

“Taka! Open your eyes! Taka!” I squeezed him to me, for my body was the only warmth in the freezing river. I squeezed him hard, until his eyes flickered and he brought in a tiny breath. He choked immediately, vomiting water and his lunch over my shoulder back into the river.

“Catch, Osamu!” Mitsuhide yelled. He threw the rope towards me and I held up my free hand, catching it as it fell overhead.

As Taka choked and vomited, Mitsuhide and Ichirou pulled us to the bank where they then grabbed our arms and yanked us up.

“Shit!” Ichirou cursed. “You’re both as cold as ice!”

Taka and I shivered uncontrollably. Mitsuhide took his haori coat off and wrapped it around us. “This is bad. You need to get as warm as possible as soon as possible,” he said urgently.

“I k-know,” I stammered through clattering teeth. “Ch-Chiyo’s hou-se. T-the bath-th.” I could barely speak.

Understanding flashed in Ichirou’s face. “That’s why you told her to get the bath ready!”

Mitsuhide helped me up and I pointed a shaking, white hand at Riku. He understood my silent request and urged me to Riku with a strong, supporting arm.

“Take him,” he pressed. “I will deal with the situation here.” There was vital worry that strained his voice.

Chigusa stood nearby, no longer on the back of her own horse and she stared at me. “Why?” She whispered. “Why did you go to such lengths to save him? You could have drowned.”

Mitsuhide looked at her sharply. “Not now, Chigusa-hime.”

I held up a hand to him while with my other I kept Taka pressed as close to my body as possible. My body heat was his best chance of survival.

I glared at Chigusa and with my free hand, grabbed the front of her kimono. Her guards reached for their swords when Mitsuhide waved for them to stop immediately. I leaned close.

“Unlike you, people like Taka and I are not of noble blood,” I hissed into her ear. “Life is precious. Friends are precious. But you will never understand that. I may not be a true Akechi, but I am still a Lady of this land. Put another life of theirs in danger again and you will answer to me, Pureblood or not.”

I let go of her, struggling to keep my fury under control as Mitsuhide helped me mount Riku. Then without another look back, I rode to Chiyo and Ichirou’s house, adrenaline powering me through.

* * * * *

For the first time in Chigusa’s life, she felt fear. She did not move from her position. Her eyes were wide and staring. Her skin felt cold, as if she were encased in ice.

Never had she seen such frozen hate and fury directed at her. Normally she could brush it off. The trifles of humans were none of her business. But she could not brush Osamu’s hate and fury away. It attacked her, smothered her, it was so heavy that for a moment, she forgot to breathe.

And it was not raging hot as most people’s temper. Osamu’s was ice cold.

Was a human capable of such a thing? How could a human frighten her, a Pureblood, with just their aura?

Slowly, she managed to turn around. Osamu had already disappeared, carrying that child who shivered uncontrollably. Her words rang in Chigusa’s ears. _“Friends are precious. But you will never understand that.”_

The whole event played in her mind with perfect clarity. It was the first time she had felt intense emotion within her chest. She felt the confusion and dismay of Osamu’s actions, she had felt the blade of Osamu’s words, she had felt fear of Osamu’s freezing temper.

Chigusa’s face was paler than usual.

_What are you? _She thought silently.

* * * * *

I burst through Chiyo’s front entrance with Taka in my arms. Chiyo’s mother jumped in fright, before recognition flashed across her face, followed by horror.

“Oh my goodness!” She cried. “Now I understand what Chiyo meant!”

“Quickly!” I puffed, hurrying through to the bathhouse behind their house. “Help me take off his clothes. Has Chiyo got the bath ready?”

“Yes, I have!” Chiyo replied, head popping out from the side of the screen. Her eyes widened upon seeing us.

Taka shuddered non-stop as we virtually ripped his clothes off. The only sound he was able to make was the chatter of his teeth.

“What about you?” Chiyo’s Mother gasped. “You will fall ill or even die!”

“Never mind me for the moment,” I said, my voice harsh from the cold. “Focus on Taka first! The bath isn’t big enough for two. Is the water warm, not hot?”

Chiyo nodded and with Taka undressed, I picked him up and placed him into the bath. If the water was hot then it would do more damage than good. Warm water would warm the body at a steadier pace.

“Keep shivering,” I instructed Taka. “The shivering will keep your body warm.”

“It does?” Chiyo asked worriedly.

I nodded. “It’s a defensive mechanism for your body to combat cold seeing as it generates body heat. Why else do you think we shiver when we’re cold?”

With Taka in the bath and Chiyo’s mother using a flannel of warm water to rub over his head and face, some of my previous panic, anger and hysteria began to calm.

“Osamu! Taka!” Ichirou shouted from somewhere near the house as he arrived.

Chiyo was about to open the screen when Ichirou did it for her, having run to this corner of the house. He was panting with excursion.

“Are they both alright?”

“Taka will be fine,” I said with a tight voice, still feeling my heart pound from the events. “Once he has stopped shivering on his own then we need to dry him and keep him as warm as possible.”

Some of the tension eased from Ichirou’s expression, before he then set his attention on me. “What the heck, Osamu?! Why are you still wearing that? Hurry up and get changed!” He waved his sister over as he stepped back. “Ane-ue! Help me find some clothes for her. My stuff will fit. And you!” He jabbed a figure at me. “Stay here and take those soaking clothes off!”

The two dashed back through the house and I complied with his order. Had the situation been lighter, I would have joked about his ordering me taking my clothes off. But this was not funny.

“Quick, give them to me,” Chiyo’s Mother said, handing me a towel in return. “Dry yourself down. You really must have a bath! If you don’t get warm soon then you can die!”

I managed to snort softly in amusement between my shivering. “Worst that will happen to me is catching a cold from this,” I said, hoping to ease her worries as I dried myself down.

“We can’t take any chances!”

I held her gaze. “Trust me,” I said gently, yet my voice was firm. “I am not going to die. I’ll just catch a chill. I’ve had plenty in the past. And if you’re worried that Mitsuhide-sama may criticising you for not treating me properly then don’t worry, he will not do such a thing.”

Taka shifted in the water. “O-Osamu-san. I’m s-sorry.”

Behind the violent shuddering, his expression was rife with guilt.

I smiled at him warmly, even though my body was anything but that. “Don’t be. It was not your fault. Now concentrate on getting yourself warm.”

The screen slid open again and Chiyo slipped in with an arm full of clothes. “Here!” She said breathlessly. “Put these on!”

I did not argue, pulling my arms and legs into Ichirou’s clothes as fast as I could to get warm, all the while dreading the nasty cold that was going to come the next day. Chigusa was the last person on my mind.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

I did not completely remember returning to the castle after I left Taka in Chiyo’s care. But what I was very aware of now was of how blasted cold I was!

I shivered under the futon, my entire fragmented awareness concentrating on just how ill I was feeling. How much time had passed since I got back? I had no idea, nor did I care much. All I wanted was for this terrible nausea to go away.

Vaguely, I cursed myself. _Maybe if I did not say ‘I have yet to catch a cold!’, then I probably wouldn’t have gotten into this mess!_

Back in England of the present day, people would have probably called me superstitious with my worry over jinxes. However, over time I had begun to work out that whenever I said or even thought something as such, the opposite tended to occur not too long after. And with my prophetic dreams somehow having magnified in strength since coming to Sengoku Japan, I should have known not to take the chance.

My abdomen felt awful and my head pounded. I felt sick but my stomach was empty. My muscles ached from shivering yet I could not stop. I tried to keep my breathing deep and steady, but it was surprisingly hard. It was heavy against my torso.

“She has . . . fever . . . extra quilts . . .”

The faint words trickled through my ears to my clouded brain. And it took even longer for the words to take meaning in my head. When it did register, I ground my teeth and forced my eyes open, propping myself up the best that I could manage, powered by worry rather than my own strength.

“No,” I croaked. My vision span dizzyingly and through the white stars, I saw a thick futon and two quilts slip off me.

“Osamu-sama!” A maid gasped.

I looked up with a painful squint against the lamp light. Three women were in the room. Two sat on either side of me, one had a bowl of water with a towel, and the other was empty-handed. And the third had another quilt folded up in her arms.

The one with nothing in her hands or arms was Yuko. She looked shocked and concerned.

“Osamu-sama, you must lie back down. You are very ill.”

I sucked in a hiss of a breath and pressed a hand to my eyes. When the quilts slipped away from me from sitting up, I realised just how much I was sweating, and how much colder I felt. But I knew how to take care of this body.

I weakly kicked the quilts away, before grabbing the futon back with shaking limbs and collapsed back down.

“Osamu-sama, what are you doing?” Yuko demanded with concern and dismay. “You are burning up. You need the futon and quilts.”

“No, I don’t,” I croaked again, curling up into a ball beneath the futon. “When someone has a fever . . . you _must_ cool their body temperature down as a matter of urgency . . . making them sweat it out with more quilts . . . does more damage . . . to the body . . .” It was dismaying just how much effort it took for me to speak.

“But –!”

“No buts, Yuko . . .” I puffed with as much firmness as I could manage. That made me feel even worse and my expression distorted as if I was about to cry. In fact, that was exactly what I wanted to do but nothing came out from my eyes.

“I will explain . . . later . . . for now . . . just this blanket . . .” My voice trailed off as I could no longer keep my eyes open. I felt colder than ever, and it took every last ounce of energy to force myself into an exhausted sleep filled with tossing and turning.

Whether Yuko obeyed what I said, I was not sure, nor did I care too much in the end. I just hoped that she listened to me against the general traditions of medicine they had been taught for centuries.

* * * * *

Mitsuhide frowned as he walked through the corridors. He had intended to go _past_ Aki’s room, still too angry at her actions earlier during the day to face her without wishing he could slap some sense into her. However, the guilt in his heart was too heavy for him to ignore her room, especially after what she had just managed to wheeze out to Yuko.

With a heavy sigh, he swung around to Aki’s quarters.

“What should we do, Yuko-san?” He heard one of the maids ask.

“But Osamu-sama must sweat this out,” another said worriedly. “We always use lots of blankets and quilts.”

Indeed that was how they always treated their fevers. The illness was in the sweat and the hotter they became, the more quickly they could expel the illness and the fever.

Mitsuhide stopped and gently slid open the screen. The three of them looked up at him and their eyes widened.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” they said.

He nodded to their stunned expressions, before looking down at Aki who was curled up under the blanket, with the other quilts at the base in a heap. Her breathing was staggered and her face looked pale with a tinge of green to it. She was very ill indeed after swimming in the icy river.

Even just beginning to think about the event made the anger stir within him again. But it was not just Aki he was angry at. He was also angry at himself for not moving quick enough, and angry at Chigusa whose ignorance pushed Aki over the edge – quite literally.

It was a natural ignorance for one of noble blood and higher class, and Mitsuhide could have easily turned out very similar. However, Aki’s views on life and her attitudes took him down a different path instead. And therefore he understood her so much better. He knew better than anyone of Aki’s shallow tolerance for ignorance and blinding pride and arrogance.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” Yuko said with worry. “Osamu-sama just woke up for a brief moment and told us she just wants one blanket. But she is very unwell. We must make her sweat it out . . .” She trailed off as Mitsuhide held up a hand.

His gaze flickered to Aki and he narrowed his eyes. _Foolish woman,_ he thought quietly. _You don’t realise how much I worry about you sometimes. _

He sighed slightly in the end though. It had been almost eight years, and in that time, Mitsuhide had come to know of Aki’s knowledge and intellect.

“Do as she says,” he finally said. “She is very clever. There will be a reason. When she is better, then she will explain it. For now though, just keep watching over her.”

Yuko looked torn. “Very well, Mitsuhide-sama,” she agreed reluctantly.

* * * * *

The next day, Mitsuhide sat on the tatami with the screens closed. However, he could still hear the town in the distance, but not as clearly as usual, for snow dampened and absorbed sound. Life carried on as normal, he heard children in the distance screaming and shouting as they continued to play in the snow.

The sounds were not as great as yesterday though when Aki and Ichirou had one of their famous snowball fights.

Neither of them were in the fields now. Aki was sick and Ichirou watched over Taka with Chiyo. Mitsuhide held a note in his hands from Ichirou which had arrived not too long ago. It appeared that Taka had caught the chill, but was in much better condition than expected.

Mitsuhide sighed in relief. Aki’s quick thinking and understanding of the illnesses and the body had saved Taka’s life. He was still angry at Aki for doing something so foolish, but despite his reluctance, he had to admit in the end that without Aki’s quick thinking, Taka would be lost, and the town’s people would be furious with the Yamagishi, and therefore at the Akechi for hosting the Yamagishi visit.

“That letter is from the young man who was with Osamu yesterday?” Chigusa noted. She sat a few metres in front of Mitsuhide in the room, beautiful as always. But her appearance meant nothing to Mitsuhide anymore.

Beautiful women would of course, always make his body feel hot. It was natural for every man. However, behind Chigusa’s beauty was nothing. She was stereotypically the perfect noble woman; beautiful, rich, powerful, proud and with little care for those beneath her status.

However, since yesterday, Mitsuhide had noticed Chigusa’s deepening silence. Behind her dark and cold eyes was what looked like puzzlement.

Mitsuhide folded up the parchment and tucked it into the folds of his uwangi. “Yes,” he agreed. “Ichirou tells me that Taka has made it through the night and now has a chill which already appears promising in terms of recovery.”

Chigusa did not seem to respond in anyway, but Mitsuhide noted the ever so slightly narrowing of her sharp eyes.

“They listened to Osamu,” she muttered. “Even though she does not behave as a noble samurai.”

Mitsuhide narrowed his own eyes in turn, subtly. Chigusa did not look at him.

“Osamu’s treatment of commoners is very different to what you will be used to, Chigusa-hime,” he said, his voice calm. “They listen to her for a number of reasons. The first is of course due to the fact that she is a Lady. The second is because she is very intelligent and wise; only a fool would question that. A thirdly, she treats the commoners as people, as equals.”

Chigusa glanced away to the screens. “I do not understand why. We are not equals. It is an insult to say such peasants are on the same ranking of status as we.”

“Is it?” Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow, causing Chigusa to look up at him upon his tone. He stood and took out Ichirou’s message again. “Our social standing is indeed superior in status, and many of our ranking would see commoners as nothing more than as what you said, ‘peasants’, dirty and smelly, poor and pathetic. The world would be better without them.” Mitsuhide walked slowly around the room while Chigusa sat still. “But your sight is blinded, Chigusa-hime.”

Chigusa tensed and the room chilled further with her aura. “Mitsuhide-sama. I ask that you refrain from such accusations.”

Mitsuhide ignored her irritation. “It is not an accusation, Chigusa-hime,” he said. “Look.” He held up the folded parchment. “It is those ‘peasants’ who make this parchment for us to write on, to write our poetry and reports.” He gently ran his hand over the nearby drawers. “It is the ‘peasants’ who cut down the trees and carve the wood into our fans and make our cabinets and screens. It is the common people who tend to the farms and make the food we eat; they’re the ones who build their houses and our castles and make our weapons; they’re the ones who tailor our clothes and sew the stunning embroidery your silks display.”

Chigusa’s gaze was on the floor.

“And how much of that knowledge do we know?” Mitsuhide murmured, almost to himself. “Virtually none of it. Our skills are in warfare, culture and politics. But we know nothing of the very basics of survival. In reality, we depend on the commoners far more than they depend on us.”

“Tch.” Chigusa’s jaw clenched. “I did not expect a fellow Pureblood to speak of such topics.”

Mitsuhide sat down again, looking directly at her. “If Osamu had not opened my eyes to the reality of life, then I would be ignorant to what goes on beyond my castle walls, taking everything for granted.”

It was true. When he was a child, he took everything for granted, and still did today. It was not something he could completely change for he was a Lord. However, Osamu had indeed opened his eyes. As he grew, she taught him many things, particularly views of life and reality. He valued the role of every individual person, for they all had a part to play, unlike many noble women in particular who sat around waiting to be married off, or ordered servants around in their household. They sat around ‘looking pretty’ as Aki liked to say.

Chigusa’s ignorance was infuriating in many respects now, especially after she obliviously antagonised Aki into jumping into the river after Taka. However, he also understood some of Chigusa’s attitude. They were both of noble blood and birth. It was simply in their upbringing.

Chigusa looked away with eyes as hard as rock. Mitsuhide could see the war which went on behind her face; a war between her confusion and pride. He knew that she was not going to say anything soon, too proud to make any comment back to him.

“I take my leave,” he said with an automatic bow of respect to the Pureblood opposite him. “I will go into the town to check Taka’s health.”

He rose, but Chigusa did not look at him still, nor did she return the gesture which in itself was an insult.

“What of Osamu?” She questioned.

“She will be fine,” Mitsuhide said, stepping past her.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Like I and many others have said before, Osamu is an intelligent woman, knowledgeable in many things, including in health and the body. She understands what she is doing. I trust her judgement.” He slid open the screen. “Good day, Chigusa-hime.”

Mitsuhide stepped out, and closed the screen behind him, feeling his expression darken as he walked away and he shook his head. He wondered how Chigusa would behave.

* * * * *

Later that evening, Mitsuhide went back around to Aki’s quarters. He returned from Taka’s house a few hours ago. Ichirou and Chiyo had taken him back to his home and stayed there to look after him.

The boy was in remarkably better condition to what Mitsuhide was expecting. Of course he trusted Ichirou’s words in the message, but it was another thing to actually see Taka for himself.

Taka had a fever for a short while, but it was gone by midday. Now, the boy was just a little unwell, but aside from that, he seemed to be doing well. He was not burning up and so weak in bed that he could not move. Taka was sitting up, still weak, but with some spark to his face.

Mitsuhide was relieved. By putting Taka’s safety first, Aki had steered the boy’s health away from the worst.

Now, it was Aki who was paying the price.

Mitsuhide entered her room. Yuko was kneeling beside the futon, squeezing water from the cloth used to wipe Aki’s forehead. Aki was lying on her back, still pale, but not as green and grey as she was last night, nor was she shivering anymore.

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow in amazement at the same time Yuko looked up.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” she said in greeting with a smile. She was about to bow when Mitsuhide held up his hand and shook his head, sitting down on Aki’s other side.

“She looks . . . much better than last night,” Mitsuhide said slowly.

Yuko’s smile was one of relief. “Indeed. Her fever went down by morning. Normally, sufferers would be suffering with a fever for two days.”

Mitsuhide mirrored her smile softly. “I guess that is why she discarded all of the quilts, to reduce the fever quicker.”

Yuko placed the damp cloth back over Aki’s forehead. “I thought she did not know what she was talking about at first due to illness clouding her judgement. Now I see I was wrong.” She paused. “I am fascinated and confused. How did she know how to reduce the fever so quickly?”

“We will find out later,” Mitsuhide said. “How is her general condition now?”

Yuko frowned in thought. “It is difficult to tell. I think she may still be ill for a few days, but as the fever has passed, she should be on the road to recovery now.” She sighed. “Now that her fever is gone, I am inclined to return the quilts to her so she does not catch a worse chill from the cold air. But what if the warmth brings the fever back?”

She looked worried. Mitsuhide reached out touched the back of his hand to the side of Aki’s neck, something which he had seen other maids do to the sick sometimes. The heat of her skin met his, but it was not as burning as he was expecting from a fever. Indeed, her temperature was near normal, and Yuko had a very valid point.

He withdrew his hand and looked back up at Yuko. “Replace the quilt with a clean one. That should be warm enough to keep the cold at bay, but also not too warm that it may bring back the fever.”

Yuko nodded and stood. “Excellent choice, Mitsuhide-sama,” she praised, moving to the storage cupboards to fetch the quilt.

When she came back, she placed it at the foot of the futon mattress and glanced up at Mitsuhide.

“Could you pull the quilt over her while I remove the this one, please?” She asked.

“Of course,” Mitsuhide agreed.

Yuko pulled the quilt from Aki and as Mitsuhide pulled the other one over her, she stirred, having felt the change in temperature as the other quilt was removed.

They both looked to her face. Aki’s eyes were half open.

“Osamu-sama,” Yuko said at the same time that Mitsuhide said, “Aki.”

Aki blinked slowly. “What are you . . .?” She trailed off, her expression distorting into one of incredible discomfort and she rolled onto her side, pushing herself up. With one hand, she supported her weight, while the other was at her neck.

The supporting arm trembled, weak and struggling to hold herself up. Without really thinking, Mitsuhide placed his arm behind her back and leaned her forward more comfortably. He realised there was hardly any strength in her as much of her weight leaned back into his arm. It was not a problem for his Oni strength.

“What is it, Aki?” He asked her, concerned.

Her eyes were not really seeing. “My throat,” she rasped. “Hurts . . . dry . . .”

Yuko jumped slightly. “Ah, I will be back in a moment with medicine. Please hold on, Osamu-sama.” She got up quickly and left the room in a hurry.

Aki nodded, her response too slow. That nod turned into a slump forward, causing Mitsuhide to use his other arm to move her back into his original arm so her head did not hang. Her head rocked into his shoulder instead so she partly leaned against him.

Mitsuhide’s own response to this was also a little slow, suddenly realising that he _held _her, in his very arms.

With that realisation, his heart began to beat a little faster.

It was a feeling he had not experienced before. True, he had been held by her when he mourned his father’s death. But that was different. He had been a child back then.

Now, he was sixteen, and stronger, and taller. Not taller than her yet, but still with the growing body of a young man.

He glanced down at Aki. Her eyes were half closed, unseeing, and blinking very slowly, struggling internally to keep some form on consciousness. If she felt anything while being in his arms, then she was not aware of it.

In a sense, it made Mitsuhide feel disappointed. Yet at the same time, he was glad. This was fine. No conclusions could arise from this.

It was nice, sitting there, with just the two of them in silence. For once, he felt older than Aki. For once, he could feel like it was him protecting her, not the other way around.

He could not describe this feeling. It was one which made him feel oddly at peace, despite the fact that Aki was still very ill. In fact, iy may have been the reason why he felt like this.

Aki had always been there for him. He had never even considered a life where she was not nearby. She was his teacher and guide in many respects; she was his bodyguard, a member of the family, and a loyal friend.

Now, in this moment, he felt like he could be all of that in return to pay her back. It was his turn to be there for her. Except, he was overcome by the desire to also be something more.

But it also made him realise something else. Since the moment she dived into the river, he had not had a moment’s rest where he did not worry about her. Sometimes, he had forgotten that she was human, for she seemed indestructible. Her health had always been almost perfect and she had never sustained any major injuries in skirmishes against bandits or along the borders against neighbouring armies.

However, although he never showed it, he feared for her safety more than he would like to admit. And now, he feared for her health as well. Aki may not age, making her seem like an immortal, but the reality did not change – she was fragile, like every other human being.

So easy to damage. So easy to lose.

Mitsuhide’s chest constricted slightly and his jaw clenched.

_I don’t want Aki to be harmed. I don’t want to lose her._

His grip around her tightened while his heart sank. _I am selfish,_ he thought silently, remembering her distant gaze as she thought about her true family.

He wondered, if there was a way to make Aki become so attached to the Akechi that she would not want to leave.

Mitsuhide shook his head slightly. It was too much to ask for. And certainly too soon to consider. Now was not the right time.

He sighed softly. “I went to see Taka today,” he murmured, not expecting Aki to respond with her voice and throat as raspy as they were. “He is doing well. He had a mild fever, but it went away quickly. Now he just has a small chill which he should recover from soon. Taka is a strong boy. If you did not treat him as quickly as you did, then his health may be in a very different state.”

Aki’s finger’s twitched, but that was it, aside from a slight smile and her eyes closed with relief in silence.

Yuko arrived back with a tea pot and cup, setting it down on the side. “I brought back the medicine,” she said breathlessly. Her louder voice caused Aki to strain open her eyes again.

Mitsuhide sat her more upright as Yuko poured the medicine from the pot into the cup. Its hot, herbal aroma wafted through the cool air, creating steam.

She held it to Aki’s lips who gulped it down. Her face distorted into disgust this time and Mitsuhide chuckled at her expression. “Tastes bad?”

“It’s like the herbal . . . stuff . . . my mother gave me . . . to drink when I was ill in the past,” she croaked. Her voice was worryingly weak, nothing like the usual clear voice that Mitsuhide was used to.

“It will soothe your throat, as well as help you get better,” Yuko said, withdrawing the cup.

“I know,” Aki whispered. “Two more . . . cups.”

Internally, Mitsuhide praised Aki for continuing. Even Mitsuhide did not do that, usually telling them to go away.

Yuko poured and Aki drank. At the end of the third small cup, Aki had already fallen into the deep unconsciousness of sleep.

Mitsuhide laid her back down and pulled the quilt up to her neck.

“She will sleep a lot over the next couple of days,” Yuko said wisely. “You should also get some rest, Mitsuhide-sama. I will look after her.”

He glanced up to Yuko. “But you also need your rest. You have been looking after Aki since yesterday.”

Yuko smiled at his concern. She may be a maid and servant, but she was someone who Mitsuhide respected and listened to, perhaps more so than the others.

“I have shifts covered with the other maids. We will be fine, Mitsuhide-sama.”

Mitsuhide searched her gaze, finding reassurance in her eyes, and he smiled softly with a nod. “Alright then. I will leave Aki in your care. I’ll come to check on her every now and then.”

“Of course.” She nodded a bow.

Mitsuhide’s gaze lingered on Aki for a moment longer, before he finally stood, and left to speak with Lord Yamagishi.

* * * * *

The soreness in my throat woke me again, dredging me up from my exhausted sleep.

I no longer felt so sick and cold. That part of the cold or flu had passed. Now, I simply felt ill, which entailed feeling incredibly weak, somewhat achy, uncomfortable and very tired, with a scratchy throat as I breathed. The cough and runny nose had yet to strike, and I prayed that it would not. I would not be able to handle having those two in addition to a sore throat, which was hard enough to deal with as it was.

The medicine Yuko gave me during the night would not take immediate effect. Like all medicines, one had to allow time to see the effects, which was a painful thing to do while in discomfort.

I could barely remember last night. There was something about medicine and Mitsuhide being by my side.

That latter thought caused my heavy eyes to open slightly, my expression tired, yet a comfortable calm settled over me.

_Mitsuhide-sama was here, _I thought quietly, feeling tears sting my eyes without warning, but none fell.

Mitsuhide was my friend, perhaps my best friend, in this era. I cared about him greatly, and he returned that companionship with friendship and kindness. I was never expecting anything more than that.

Even though my memory of last night was fuzzy and blurred, I could not mistake his presence. For the first time in all these years, I felt safe and protected; I felt I could finally relax and let my guard down; I felt . . . cared for.

Seven – nearly eight - years . . . such a long time . . .

Was Mitsuhide still here?

Slowly, my vision became less blurred and I noticed that someone else was indeed in the room with me – except it was not him, nor was it Yuko.

Unreadable, dark eyes stared down at me. I stared back up with exhaustion, feeling my breath exhale with my disappointment and bitterness. I was too tired to feel any anger though.

Perhaps that was best. Even while sick, it was best when emotion did not cloud judgement.

I did not great the visitor. She did not deserve it at this stage, nor could I muster the energy at the time to greet someone like her.

She sat in silence for a while, and in the end, I turned my blank gaze away, closing my eyes as boredom and sleep tugged.

“Why did you do it?”

I did not respond for a while. I knew what she meant by that question, asked in a voice that was tainted with confusion and something else.

My breath was a sigh, dredging up what small sliver of energy I could find and I opened my eyes.

“I told you before,” I whispered. “He was my friend.”

There was a beat of silence. “But you could have died. Why risk your life for one simple, little boy?”

I closed my eyes, resting from the effort of speaking. Despite her very dim and obvious question, I did not feel the anger I was expecting. Chigusa may look and act like a noble woman, but in reality, she was just a little girl with very little knowledge of the outside world or of true social structures and interactions. She had to be taught, the hard way.

“I would not have died,” I murmured. In truth, my death was not what was on my mind at that time, focused more so on Taka.

“How can you be so sure?”

Now some irritation sparked. “I understand my limits . . . do not ask that again . . .” I wheezed.

Chigusa fell into another cold and confused silence. I took a few minutes to gather my last bit of energy.

“I did it to save Taka’s life . . . I did it to save the Akechi’s reputation . . . to save my hate for you,” I rasped. “If you ever learn to . . . make a friend . . . then you will understand why . . . I went to such extremes . . .”

I could not stay awake any longer, and my last utterance sighed away with my breath as I retreated back into shattered sleep, not caring how Chigusa would have taken my words.

* * * * *

It was the next day when I woke up properly again, this time feeling better than previously. My throat was still sore and my voice still rasped. However, the catastrophic amount of sleep I had had restored some of my lost energy.

I had enough energy returned to sit up and stand, and even walk. However, I had to stop occasionally, feeling tired and out of breath. I did not stray too far from my room, and spent a lot of the time sitting by the screens, wrapped up warm and gazing out at the snow.

“Aki. You’re too close to the screens. What if you catch another chill?”

I glanced behind. It was harder than it looked, having my muscles become stiff and joints less flexible thanks to my days of not doing anything at all.

Mitsuhide came into the room, sliding the screen shut behind him. He looked worried, having already whisked himself across the room at shut the outer screen with a quick clack. The sound caused my sensitive eyes and ears to flinch and I squinted up at him.

“I can’t catch another chill while I already have one,” I croaked.

He exhaled deeply and sat down. “I beg to differ.”

I smiled faintly at his concern. It was a warming feeling, to be worried over.

He sighed heavily. “I am sorry. I just don’t want your health to slip backwards.”

“Apology accepted,” I said quietly.

We sat together for a while in silence, much of my mind elsewhere, unable to stay completely focused as tiredness let it fly free. They strayed to Taka however. I remembered vaguely of Mitsuhide mentioned that he had been to visit him.

“How is Taka now?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

Mitsuhide’s expression softened. “He is recovering well. The town’s people are amazed at his speed of recovery. They say you have a miraculous, healing touch, the gift of water. They haven’t forgotten how they first saw you. And now you also survive a swim in a frozen river.”

I rolled my eyes slightly. _Superstitious._ However, my own expression softened with relief. “I am glad he is alright.”

Mitsuhide’s face then hardened, holding my gaze and I prepared myself for what he was about to say next.

“You’re an idiot,” he stated bluntly.

I nodded to myself, expecting it. “I know. The Aki you know would not exist otherwise.”

Mitsuhide shook his head, his hands resting on his knees. “Aki,” he finally said. “Don’t do something like that again.”

I blinked, not expecting that. “But –”

“Aki.” He cut me off and I stared at him. His gaze was unwavering, yet behind that usual strength was something I had never seen so deeply in his eyes: concern and fear.

For me.

I was left speechless.

“I know it is a terrible thing for me to ask of you, but please don’t do something so foolish again to jeopardise your safety and health,” he said.

It took me a while to respond. “Is that an order?” I managed to croak.

He reached out, placing his hand on my shoulder and held my gaze. “No,” he said firmly, yet his tone was sincere. “I am asking you as a friend.”

I stared at him for a long while, searching his eyes and his expression. He was truly honest.

I sighed gently with a slight smile. “For your sake, I will try. I hope that such a situation never arises again.”

Mitsuhide did not let go of me right away, searching my own eyes for the strength of truth behind my words.

He found it, and leaned back, letting go. His exhalation released the tension which had built up in his body and I felt a pang of guilt strike me with the warmth of his concern. I did not want to worry him. I did not want to be a burden to him, not again, not after that night so many years ago.

I changed the topic. “Chigusa-hime came to visit me yesterday,” I said, feeling my voice chill.

Mitsuhide’s only change was the slight narrow of his eyes. He did not look surprised. “She is very confused. Chigusa-hime struggles to grasp the meaning of your actions. It is not something she has ever experienced. Loyalty in friendship is a completely foreign concept to her.”

My expression was also hard. “Perhaps this event will at least open her eyes slightly, if not grasp the meaning as to why.”

“Perhaps with time,” Mitsuhide breathed. “Her lack of heart did not anger just you.”

I glanced at him. The echo of his anger was shadowed beneath his eyes. “If you wish, I can ensure that she does not come near you again for a while until tensions ease,” he mused, but his tone was serious. Judging from that tone, I guessed he must have spoken with her already about hers and my actions.

I shook my head. “I appreciate the gesture, but no, there is no need. Tensions will have their own way of working themselves out.”

Mitsuhide snorted gently. “I don’t know why, but your wisdom always surprises me. Maybe it is because it is said by a woman with an eighteen-year-old appearance.” His face became stern again. “Chigusa-hime wars within herself as she struggles to understand the concepts of friendship.”

I frowned. “How can you tell?”

Mitsuhide glanced back to me. “You should have seen it, in her eyes.”

I looked back down at my lap, thinking back to yesterday. Through my blurred vision, I recalled unreadable eyes that were dark and swirling with thought . . . and self-reflection.

I felt tired and sighed softly, shutting my eyes. Chigusa needed time to reflect and think, and I still needed to time to recover.

“You are still exhausted, Aki,” Mitsuhide said gently, beginning to rise and I squinted up at him again. “Get some rest. I will call Yuko to bring some more medicine.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Mitsuhide-sama.”

He smiled in return.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

The next day, I felt rather glum. Even though the worst of my illness had passed, it was still in my body. I would be pathetically weak for many days to come, a bitter result of having risen from the worst part of it. In a sense, I suppose it was fair, as the laws of balance would say. If I was not going to be bed-ridden for a week, then I would simply be in ‘recovery’ for twice as long, as I would think that I am better, go all out, and then my health would backtrack as a result due to not being ready for my going ‘all out’.

I exhaled grimly. It was frustrating to feel this weak and tired. I wanted to be better _now_.

_But that is too much to ask for_, I thought glumly as I walked through the gardens, staying close to the castle. My pace was slow as each step took effort. The ache in my limbs came deep from within.

My steps were very slow partly for that reason. The other was due to my stopping to constantly gaze around me. I could admire the snow again, lettings its white purity fill my sight of view. The white of the ice was a contrast against the darkness of the trees and rocks.

I stood more often than I stepped, spending time just gazing and gazing. Even though summer was the time where I could do more fun things with friends and stay out late due to the warmth, I was never a summer person. Even after so many years here in Japan now, my body could never get used to the humid heat of the day during the summer. Winter however was a time of year that I could handle, no matter where I was.

When I was younger, I used to call myself a Winter Child, for I was born during the winter as well. Now, I had grown out of such names, but the feeling in the heart was still there. There was an affinity I had with the cold snow and ice, with its sleepy silence, harsh touch and freezing breath. There was a great, mysterious elegance about it, a whispered quiet behind the frost.

The snow crunched softly beneath my boots. Sound was muffled by its illusionary fluffiness.

Yuko did not want me outside at all, terrified that I may fall sick again. But luckily for me, she had her hands full attending Mitsuharu and Mistutada, seven and four.

I had forgotten what it was like to feel this ill and the toll it had on the body. Staying inside ‘recovering’ was as boring as hell. I wanted to be outside, free. But when I did that, I burnt my energy too quickly.

_Now I understand how Mum feels_, I smiled to myself.

My gaze turned to the sky which was white with a heavy blanket of cloud, filled with more snow ready to fall. _I hope you’re all right, Mum,_ I hoped. _I’m sorry I can’t be there to watch over you. I doubt my little sister has become any more responsible since my disappearance._

The smile faded from my lips, falling as my expression fell. With the happiness that came from thinking of my original family, sadness quickly followed with twice the strength. It had been a wonder I had not lost my mind or committed suicide yet.

I had the Akechi to thank for that. To be more specific, it was Mitsukuni and Mitsuhide.

They welcomed me and treated me with kindness and warmth. The Akechi may not be my family by blood, but they had become my family in my heart, my second family which I had come to love dearly.

_So much has changed,_ I thought as I pulled my thick haori around me tighter, continuing to step through the snow, taking my time in my plain white kimono. _I never thought I’d feel this much fondness for the Japanese._

I snorted to myself. _The tragedies of the World Wars haven’t happened yet in this time though. It would be nice if it did not happen. I don’t want to hate. It’s such a bitter, ugly emotion, so heavy and cloying._

It made me think . . . if I had stopped ageing, then would it mean that I would live forever like the Oni? Would I be around to witness the birth of the World Wars?

It made my heart feel heavy.

_I hope not._

As I walked around the garden, I glanced up towards the veranda, following along it until I stopped, spotting someone sitting on it in the distance. Automatically, my breath caught in my throat.

It was Yamagishi Mitsunobu, Chigusa’s father.

We made eye contact before I could pretend to not see him. _Bollocks, _I chided mentally. Hopefully it did not show on my face.

I bowed where I stood, and the nobleman returned the gesture with an incline of his head. He waved his hand once, indicating that I approach, therefore I did, feeling a little nervous as I did so. Aside from the brief exchanges we had over dinner or lunch, I never had a proper conversation with him.

Mistunobu sat on the veranda, projecting the air of power and nobility. His stare was unwavering, and his expression was not exactly kind either. It made me wonder if I could ever get used to the haughtiness of nobility of which I lived within. I wanted to just sink through the ground, become the snow, to avoid whatever difficult thing he was probably going to say to me.

_But . . . I used to think the same of the Akechi Lords as well when I first met them._

“Good morning, Yamagishi-sama,” I greeted.

He inclined his head again. “Good morning, Osamu-sama. I see you are admiring the snow, despite being in recovery.”

I smiled faintly, looking back at the garden behind me. “Going for a little walk in the garden will not harm my health. The beauty of snow should be enjoyed before it turns into a practical problem.”

Mitsunobu watched me, I noticed, from the corners of my eyes. It was unnerving, and I worried, running back over my words in my head.

Did I say something I probably should not have? Did I sound too casual for his liking?

“Sit,” he said. “Have a game with me.”

I looked down at what he sat in front of. It was a board, criss-crossed with lines that made up squares. Two jars sat on opposite ends of the board, one containing white stones, the other holding black.

“Yamagishi-sama will be disappointed by my lack of skill in Go,” I said awkwardly as I sat down opposite him. I knew the basics of the game, having learnt it from my father when I was younger. Back then, I more commonly referred to the game as Weiqi, for that was its original name, as it was a game which originated from China more than four thousand years ago.

“Then let us play, so that you may develop your skills.” He looked at me expectantly. “Black moves first.”

I swallowed my reluctance and picked up a small black stone from the pot on my side of the board. It was smooth in my hand, smooth and cold. Its chill was sharp, yet soothing. I set it down onto the board, beginning the game of strategy and philosophy.

We sat in silence as we played. Oddly enough, I did not feel cold. In fact, I felt very, very warm. It was that uncomfortable kind of warmth which came from being too nervous. And nervous was exactly what I was feeling. Why was I playing a game of Go with Mitsunobu? It seemed too random. There must be some other motive behind it aside from ‘developing my chess skills’.

I lost before I knew it and I stared at the board. “Yamagishi-sama’s skills are far superior to mine. It must be too simple to play against someone of my calibre,” I said sheepishly.

He cleared the board. “We will play again, until you can start to see the patterns that will enable you to hold your ground longer on the board.”

I did not disobey him. But I felt a small sense of sighing dread. As I was still ill, my brain was not exactly at full concentration. It never was to be honest. So I wondered, how long would I be out here?

After another loss, beginning our third game, Mitsunobu finally spoke. “What do you define the nature of a Pureblood to be?”

I could not help at flinch slightly upon the question, mainly for the surprise it caused me when I had enveloped myself in secluded silence.

My gaze flickered up to him. His expression was composed and unreadable, his eyes were dark and almost all-seeing, just like the other Purebloods I had met. Their eyes could see so much more.

Inhaling slowly, I returned my focus to the board, scanning the pieces. It was around now where I was beginning to see a bit more of the pattern which lay behind the placing of the stones. It surprised me actually, that my skill for reading the strategy across the board was coming back sooner than I expected. Perhaps it was due to my childhood in playing western chess. I was in the chess club after all, and I went on competitions. But my skill was nowhere near as good as my sister’s.

“From my time here, I see Purebloods as beings of unimaginable power and influence, both physically and mentally. They hold themselves with dignity, honour and pride. They are patient and calculating beyond anything I have ever seen. Each one though has a different approach to how they live and govern in the human world. Some whom I have seen don’t have as much wisdom as I’d expect, while others are beyond comprehension.”

Mitsunobu placed his white stone down, suddenly making me realise that he was boxing me in. I was too slow to pull back, and I could only watch as his carefully laid out trap slowly encircled my main force.

“You see Purebloods as people generally should,” he said, his voice deep. “Therefore it is surprising that you have the confidence – or should I say audacity – to speak to my daughter as you did.”

I dropped my stone, and it clacked loudly against the board. With a pounding heart, I quickly caught it and pulled back, taking the opportunity to take a deep breath.

_So that’s why I am playing Go with him_, I thought with a sinking heart. _He isn’t happy that I yelled at Chigusa. _

The events replayed in my head, and familiar anger and annoyance stirred in my heart, but it was controlled and cold.

Steadying my hand, I placed my stone back down, countering Mitsunobu’s encirclement with a scrambled counter strike.

“Indeed,” I agreed darkly. “As a human, I had little right to speak to a Pureblood in that manner. However, as a Lord and Lady of the Akechi and of Mino, I had every right. I have a duty to protect the people of this land.” I dredged up what confidence I could, I dragged my gaze up to meet his, resisting the urge to immediately look back down again, but I could not completely hide the waver in my voice. “Even though the Akechi and the Yamagishi are Oni families of ancient bloodlines, you have chosen to live amongst the humans in the human world, therefore, your positions and ranking as Purebloods come second . . .” I trailed, feeling my heart hammer in my chest.

I almost could not believe what I had said. Had this event been a few years earlier, I would never have had the guts to speak to a Lord of such things, nor play the card of my own authority because in the end, I still saw myself as a simple human. But this was a harsh world, and one had to do whatever they could to survive, even if it meant backstabbing and blackmail.

Mitsunobu placed his stone down on the board, blocking off the main bulk of my force, eradicating it.

My muscles tensed. My pulsed thumped in my ears, expecting the worst.

He stared at me, seemingly stripping away whatever meagre masks and defences I had managed to put back up after my fever. I wanted to squirm under his gaze, feeling like I was suffocating.

It felt like an eternity, until he did something I did not expect.

He chuckled.

I blinked, shocked. Where was the glare? Where were the words that were meant to stab into me, poisoning me with guilt and shame?

A maid came with a tray of tea. I barely noticed her as she poured the tea and then left.

Mitsunobu handed me a mug and he took his. I watched him carefully, confused at his reaction. Was I missing something?

_Oh, what the hell,_ I cursed. _I can’t think straight when I’m this tired._

“The rumours surrounding you are true,” Mitsunobu mused. “Though some of them are very much exaggerated.”

I did not say anything, only waited.

“My daughter – despite her appearances – is still very much just a spoilt child. She has whatever she wants, and she never took an interest in the outside world. Rarely has she gone beyond our manor walls. She has great pride for her blood and as a result, she pays very little attention to anyone beneath the Pureblood status. This, you would have seen already.”

We opened up the fourth game and he continued. “Chigusa does not understand that while in this world, it is humans who govern it, not the Supernatural, hence why it is called ‘the human world’. The way you interact with her is different to what she has expected. I am sure you have not failed to notice how turmoiled her inner self is now.”

My eyes narrowed. “I have noticed.”

Mitsunobu sipped his tea and then set the mug back down on the tray. “She must be taught if she is to live in this world and lead the Yamagishi household after me.” His eyes held mine. “In the time I have known Mitsuhide, I see that he has changed considerably since your arrival into the Akechi family. He has become wiser and more understanding, more grateful and less arrogant. You are a teacher of characteristic development.”

I blinked at him, feeling stunned. Was he . . . complimenting me?

“Chigusa had always had an interest in her Pureblood cousin,” Mitsunobu mused. “She is intrigued by his changes that stray from the classic depiction of the Pureblood pride. You are the source.”

I set my black stones against the board. “What is it that Yamagishi-sama is asking of me?”

Mitsunobu moved his pieces against me. “Will Osamu plant the seeds of wisdom within this winter, to grow in the coming spring?”

I placed a stone down far from the main battle that was taking place on the board, making Mistunobu’s expression change and sharpen with my unexpected move.

“The seeds have already been planted,” I said. “All that remains now is to observe whether they take root and grow. Chigusa-hime is at a difficult time of age, where one becomes very stubborn. Everyone has been through it at some point in their youth. Teaching her the realities of life at her age is often impossible, as one naturally wants to rebel against the one giving the order. They are at a stage where they are beginning to mature into an adult, and as a result, that naturally gives them too much confidence. But,” I took a deep breath, “The seeds of teaching have been planted. They will grow in their own time. One cannot force it.”

We continued the game, and Mitsunobu smiled faintly. “You speak and think like the philosophers and Taoists of China.”

His utterance sent a pang through my heart, and I smiled sadly. “The Tao was, is, and always will be my path,” I murmured.

“Apply that and your knowledge of the battlefield to the board, Osamu,” Mitsunobu said, beating me once again.

* * * * *

“Mitsuhide-sama. I’m going down to the town to see Taka,” I said, leaning from behind the screen as servants passed by me in both directions, carrying boxes and books to and from the young Lord who sat at the table, looking a little stressed from the overload of work which had suddenly been dumped on his shoulders.

A messenger had managed to make it through the snow from Inabayama castle with quite literally a cart filled with administrative work to be taken care of. Kenji was doing what he could at the castle, but there was only so much he could do. Mitsuhide was the official administrator of Mino, therefore it all rested on his shoulders.

“What?” Mitsuhide looked up at me. His voice came out harsher than he intended and his expression was dismayed by my announcement. “Out? But it’s barely been four days since your fever disappeared –”

“Mitsuhide-sama,” a servant interrupted him apologetically. “This request for a transfer of rice has to be looked at as soon as possible.”

Mitsuhide sighed heavily and I felt sorry for him. There was so much work. Dousan was a lazy bastard to force all of this onto Mitsuhide. True, he was classified as a man now, but to me, he was still a teenager. How was someone of sixteen supposed to be able to handle such a truck load of work?

“When I go back to Inabayama in the spring, I will request Saito-sama at least a dozen assistants to manage this,” he growled under his breath.

I almost decided against going into the town to see Taka, when Mitsuharu popped up from behind me, grabbed my hand, and hauled me along behind him before Mitsuhide could voice his order to not leave the castle.

* * * * *

As the servants came with a never-ending stream of documents that had to be read and signed, Mitsuhide struggled to keep his focus on the workload at hand. Dousan’s messenger could not have come at a more inconvenient time and silently he cursed his overruling Daimyo.

Right now, what he really wanted to do was to get up and drag Aki back. She was still sick!

Yes, the spark of life had definitely returned to her eyes. But while her mind was active and rejuvenated, her body most certainly was not.

Mitsuhide could see the boredom in her gaze from sitting around inside. However, she had to stay inside to completely recover. Did she not know that?

He sighed heavily again, wearing a scowl of both irritation and fretting concern. His sneaky cousin had stolen her before Mitsuhide had the chance to say no to Aki’s ridiculous request. The boy did not fully understand the human limitations. As far as Mitsuharu was concerned, Aki was like an Oni, like the rest of them.

Which she was not. She was just as fragile as every other blasted human.

Mitsuhide thumped his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand while his other one held a roll of parchment which he tried to read without losing interest half way through a sentence.

If Aki’s health got worse after her visit into the town, then he would give her a piece of his mind, whether he cared about her or not. He was angry because he _did _care about her health.

“Mitsuhide-sama,” another servant came to him. He dragged his eyes up to the man who looked nervous. “Chigusa-hime seems to have disappeared. I’ve sent some maids to collect her. I suspect she is in the gardens.”

“Disappeared?” Mitsuhide asked, feeling his annoyance rise. What sort of a host was he if he could not keep track of where his guest had wandered off to?

“Quickly find her and return her to Lady Akechi. They can do embroidery together,” Mitsuhide said, his voice tight.

The servant nodded and left the room in haste, wanting to avoid Mitsuhide’s mood.

Mitsuhide’s tried to smooth the scowl on his brow, but was unsuccessful. _Typical that everything has to happen at once_, he brooded.

* * * * *

“When you are older, you will have to give Mitsuhide-sama a hand with all of his work,” I said to Mitsuharu as we walked into the town.

The boy scrunched up his face. “I want to keep playing.”

“You can’t play forever,” I mused. “You are a young Akechi Lord. You must aid your cousin when he becomes the Head of the clan.”

“But I will still be a child when cousin Mitsuhide becomes the Head,” Mitsuharu said thoughtfully.

“True,” I agreed. “Not this coming spring, but with the next one, Mitsuhide-sama will become the Head, and you won’t even be ten yet.”

Mitsuharu grinned. “Still time to play.”

My shoulders sank with defeat. It was impossible to talk about something serious with Mitsuharu. He was a classic young boy, very different to Mitsuhide when he had been a child. But one day, the boy would indeed certainly understand what his role would be.

I glanced at him, swinging his arms as he walked. His gaze was naturally curious about the world around him, and I felt my expression fall with sadness. The future which awaited this playful boy was also dark. His loyalty to Mitsuhide was absolute, and died on the same night, defeated by Hori Hidemasa.

Mitsuharu in my time was famous for his passage over the narrow neck of Lake Biwa, on his horse, Okage. It was depicted in many Japanese paintings, many of which I had seen with my own eyes. During his Hara-kiri, his poem of blood on the door was legendary, taken from his abdomen and used as the ink for his brush.

“What is it, Aki-senpai? You look sad. Do you feel ill? Should we go back?”

I blinked, focusing my gaze to realise that Mitsuharu was gazing at me in worry. Quickly I smiled at him. “I am fine. I wonder how Taka is,” I said, changing the topic.

Mitsuharu grinned. “He is looking better. Aki-senpai is clever after all.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not clever.”

“Then how else could Taka have survived and recovered from his fever so quickly?” Mitsuharu said, raising his hands.

“Common sense.”

“What is that?”

I exhaled softly and ruffled his hair. “Never mind. You will understand it when you’re older.”

Mitsuharu grumbled. “You always say that.”

I smirked. “That’s because it’s true.”

* * * * *

It was small inside Taka’s house, made even smaller by having his parents, younger brother and sister, Chiyo, Ichirou, Mitsuharu and myself all inside. Despite the small spacing, everyone seemed happy. A fire burned in the brazier, radiating out warmth to heat the chilly air. Even with everyone in the house and the rare brazier alight, I was still cold.

I knew I should have worn an extra haori over the already existing one. It may have made me look extra bulky, but it would have done the job. However, I did not, for that exact reason – I did not want to look that bulky and fat.

_Idiot,_ I criticised myself. Who cared if I looked fat or not? In this weather, warmth was the most important, not appearances.

It seemed that even after these years, my modern day thinking was still there, and always would be. Though, I had never been as bad as the other modern day girls of the twenty-first century, who wore strappy-tops in winter conditions. I was not that stupid. I still wore thick coats – but they were usually fairly stylish in appearance at least.

Chiyo noticed my faint shivering and brought me an extra blanket. I smiled up at her as she insisted on draping it over my shoulders herself.

“Thank you, Chiyo. If only more people were as kind and as observant as you.”

She shook her head brightly. “I look out for my friends who are my family Osamu-sama. You may live in the castle, but you are still part of our family.”

Ichirou sighed with a shake of his head. “Ah, if only you were a man, Osamu. My ane-ue needs a husband like you.”

Chiyo slapped him over the back of his head, earning a small grunt from him. “Why would you say something so inappropriate in front of Osamu-sama?”

“I’m just saying,” Ichirou protested.

I snorted. “It’s fine, Chiyo.”

“But –”

She was interrupted when Taka’s younger siblings shoved their toys in my face. “Look, look!” They exclaimed.

I leaned back slightly to avoid having my face impaled.

“Do you like my dolly? She’s called Yuki,” the sister squealed.

“Hey, Osamu-sama doesn’t like girly things. Can’t you see he is a man?” The brother argued. “Osamu-sama will want to look at _my_ toy samurai.”

After hearing that comment, it took me a while to realise that these young children, barely four years of age, thought I was a man since I was dressed as one. The comments of Chiyo and Ichirou made no sense to them.

Taka’s mother gasped. “Atsuko! Miki! Sit back down. You must not speak like that to Osamu-sama.”

“Please forgive them,” the father apologised with a disapproving look at his two younger children.

I chuckled, taking the toys. “It is alright.” I pretended to be intrigued with their toys, asking them a few things which had them thrilled.

It was not too hard to appear as if I could think like the youngsters, for we were all that age once, and all thought with that innocence. One just had to remember, and put themselves in their shoes. It was like that with driving a car. My father used to say ‘we were all learner drivers once. So show some understanding to them after you’ve qualified.’

It did not take the two children long to dash of to play, leaving the room a bit quieter with some breathing space. Taka’s mother smiled as she set down a tray of tea.

“Osamu-sama has a way with children as well? You are full of surprises and wisdom.”

I scoffed softly. “Hardly. In comparison to other women, my skills with children are appalling.”

“I think Osamu-sama is amazing,” Taka said from his bundle of blankets and quilts. His eyes were bright, but tired. His voice croaked slightly and my expression softened.

“Are you warm enough Taka?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Mitsuharu and I spent the morning in the house, chatting away. In the end, Mitsuharu left to go and play with his friends outside. Taka wanted to go as well, having the same desire as me to go out and do something rather than stay indoors, bored. But since he was a child, it was easy to exert our will on him to stay indoors to get more rest. Children were reckless, and after the effort I went through to save him, I’d rather he stayed indoors until he was recovered before that improvement was reversed.

By the time it was early afternoon, I decided to call it a day. I was tired, and Taka had already fallen asleep.

“He has not looked this relaxed since before the river incident,” the mother said lovingly as I stepped into my sandals outside the porch veranda. “It makes him relieved to see you are also getting better. Mitsuhide-sama said you were recovering, but it puts Taka at ease to actually see that.”

“Taka should not have had to go through something so traumatic at such a young age,” I sighed. “I suspect he may be quiet for a while, as well as become afraid of the water. Incidents like that often leave one mentally scarred.”

The mother’s eyes moistened. “I still cannot thank you enough for saving him. We will praise you every day for your kindness.”

I smiled. “Instead of praising me, please praise the late Akechi-sama and Mitsuhide-sama. It was because of them that I can still retain my old habits and personalities.

“Of course!”

“In that case, I’ll take my leave. I wish Taka a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you,” she said, bowing low. I inclined my head, and left.

I walked through the town, feeling satisfied if yet tired. It was a relief to see that Taka was well on the road to recovery. Small children were fragile, yet they were also indestructible. If they fell, they could get right back up and continue running. If an elderly person fell, that often put them in a bed for the remainder of their days.

Even though the thanks from the people I had come to know constantly made me feel awkward, I could not help but feel that warm flutter within my chest. I found it easy to say ‘thanks’, yet difficult to say ‘you’re welcome’.

Steadily, I headed back to the castle. It took a long time, since it was the first time the townspeople had seen me out and about after the incident. They looked overjoyed. However, I did not fail to notice that others looked wary.

“_They say you have a miraculous, healing touch, the gift of water. They haven’t forgotten how they first saw you. And now you survive a swim in a frozen river.”_

I pressed my fingers to my eyes. There was nothing I could do about that wary superstition. Though the least I could do was to try and ensure I continued to fit in. Being cast out alone was the last thing I wanted in this world. True, I could fight, but sword skills alone were not going to save me.

My feet took me onto quieter roads. I did not have the energy to be so enthusiastic about my recovery as the townspeople.

“Hey, look here men! It’s a pretty boy.”

I brought my eyes up in alarm. _Now what? _ I growled mentally.

Three men were stood against the wall, surprisingly close and I cursed my dismay for not having sensed people there. Normally, I was awake enough to feel such things. But the flu had done more damage than I thought.

The three men looked to be of the working class, judging from their clothing. In fact, they looked lower. For they were dirty and lazy in appearance. One of them held a bottle of cheap sake in his hand and immediately I twigged that they were drunk. They approached me with clumsy steps and I scowled. “Drunk already before mid-afternoon? You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Wanna join us?” They slurred, yet their hands went to their katanas.

My eyes narrowed further. They did not know who I was. “No.” I turned around to leave.

“I hate it when bloody arrogant nobles like you turn away like we’re animals!” One of them shouted with no warning, grabbing my shoulder.

I inhaled sharply. How did I not sense that in time to grab his hand and counter?

Another hand clamped down on my other shoulder and alarm flared. I turned enough to kick the first man who grabbed me, in the abdomen, causing him to grunt and stagger back onto his knee, where he then vomited over the snow.

I was too slow though. My energy was not coming to me as quickly as it usually did and my reaction times were appalling. The second man behind me grabbed both of my arms and before I had time to do something about it, the third man punched me in the gut.

The breath whooshed from my lungs, but only half as the rest got stuck in my throat, having closed up from the explosion of pain. I saw stars.

I could not believe it . . . I had been punched . . . taken advantage of so easily . . .

“There! How does that feel?” The third man roared with laughter. “Want another one?”

_Shit . . .! _I cursed, trying to control my senses from reeling with the pain of the incredibly hard punch. My lungs were still frozen.

“Here! Have another–!”

He was cut off at the same time the hands holding my arms were ripped away. The man behind me yelped. It sounded as if he was thrown back.

I fell to my knees, hands against my abdomen, trying to concentrate on taking staggered breaths into my frozen lungs before finding out who else had attacked the thugs.

The sound of their grunts indicated that they were getting beaten badly.

By the time I looked up after minutes had passed, the last one had just limped around the corner, leaving the quiet path empty, save for me and . . . a young woman.

I had to glance at her twice to realise that what I was seeing was not some dream. It was the beautiful, cold Pureblood.

“Chigusa-hime?” I croaked in disbelief.

The young Yamagishi noblewoman stood there close by, bringing her cold and empty stare away from the retreating thugs, to me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice rasped. I could not believe she was outside the castle. And by the looks of it, she was alone – without an escort!

“I went for a walk.”

This was something I had not been expecting, least of her having saved my back – at all.

I looked away, coughing slightly, still wincing badly from the punch. My entire being was focused around my abdomen. It was a wonder I did not black out just then. Not often was I caught out like that, and it had been a long time since I had experienced a punch of such force. When drunk, people had no limits, or at least thought that they had no limits. They were strong . . . bloody strong.

“You say you defend the people of this province. You even defend people like those thugs who took advantage of you?”

My jaw was clenched, but not from her comment. It was just the pain. “What? I have not defended thugs like those.”

I was struggling to stay focused on Chigusa, when my main concern was with my insides. _Damn. Mitsuhide-sama was right. I shouldn’t have gone out. I’m still as weak as hell,_ I realised grudgingly. _He’s going to be angry . . ._

I realised Chigusa had taken a few steps closer to me and I glanced back up at her. She was still staring at me.

“I do not understand you,” she murmured. There was an underlying tone of confusion in her voice.

“_The way you interact with her is different to what she has expected. I am sure you have not failed to notice how turmoiled her inner self is now.”_

I held my breath, taking the chance to pry my concentration away from my stomach and back to Mitsunobu’s words. I glanced back up at Chigusa.

Even though her expression was as unreadable and as cold as ice, her eyes were very different to the calmness across her face. Indeed . . . there _was_ turmoil in her dark gaze.

It brought me back to my first question. What was she doing here? Her answer of going for a walk seemed unlikely. There had to be another reason.

But it would have to wait for later. I felt dizzy and weaker.

I groaned, moving to the nearest wall where I sat down with my back against it and shut my eyes.

“I suggest you return to the castle, Chigusa-hime,” I rasped. “They are most likely wondering where you went.”

Chigusa barely reacted. “They are?”

_Most likely,_ I thought. _It’s a castle of Oni. No one’s presence goes unnoticed. _

I must have passed out, because when I was next aware enough of my surroundings, I realised that Chigusa had a horse beside her. Her expression was even icier than it was earlier.

“My horse will carry your weight,” she murmured.

I stared at her for a moment. Was she . . . trying to be . . . kind? It was said as a concealed jab, intended to make me feel like a burden. However, I knew better than that.

A frown furrowed my brow with thoughtfulness which now mingled with the pain and dizziness.

This was probably the first thoughtful act Chigusa had ever made. It resulted in an idea flitting to mind, taking on the request Mitsunobu had asked.

I sighed internally. _I must be mad._

“Chigusa-hime, come here,” I wheezed. The address seemed to make her flinch, and she did not move. I continued to watch her, and even though her expression did not show it, her eyes signalled that she caved with wary reluctance.

She came closer. It was not difficult to soften my expression. Even though I disliked her, my own tiredness meant that my dislike for her was second. This was the best opportunity to learn _something _about living amongst humans.

“Hold out your hand to me,” I said quietly.

Chigusa looked as if she had been stung. “I beg your pardon?”

I continued to watch her. I raised my own hand out. “Hold your hand out to me,” I repeated.

It seemed like time took a thousand years for a single second to pass. I could barely keep my hand up, feeling the ache strain through my shoulder and I gritted my teeth. Was I wasting my time?

I let my hand drop.

Chigusa caught it. I raised an eyebrow in surprise. She looked stunned, as if her hand had moved without her command.

I took her hand and held it, so she could not instantly snatch it back. She made no such move, but froze instead. It was in that moment where I saw the underlying _normal _girl beneath that pride of being a noble Pureblood. I smiled faintly.

“Now, use your strength to help me up,” I suggested.

Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. Her icy mask had cracked and beneath that crack was the more evident confusion and turmoil coming to light.

I stayed silent for a moment, just a moment for Chigusa to bring some of her scattered thoughts together, before I then pulled on her hand which I used as a lever to haul me to my feet. Automatically, she leaned and pulled back to avoid letting my weight pull her forwards. And since she had the Oni strength behind her, it was surprisingly easy.

Once on my feet, I staggered a little as dizziness swept over my head from rising too fast and I kept my other hand wrapped around my abdomen. I let go of her hand and Chigusa stepped back, staring at her fingers.

“Thank you,” I finally whispered, letting the final piece of the improvised plan fall into place.

She stiffened again.

That was probably the first time she had ever helped anyone – even if it was most likely unwilling – and had thanks in return. It may have seemed insignificant, but people so underestimated the value of kindness. A tiny act of kindness could go a long way.

People could handle all sorts of rubbish and misery thrown at them, yet it only took one tiny smile or compliment to make them smile in return and feel warm.

I did not know how Chigusa would take my actions, or whether the seeds of thoughtfulness would actually grow within her closed-in mind. However, that was something which only time would tell.

Therefore I let it diffuse from my mind and turned my focus back to my throbbing abdomen and getting back to the castle where I could rest.

I managed to pull myself onto the stunning white horse after an aching struggle. And then Chigusa led it by the reins back to the castle. Not once did she look at me, pretending as if I did not exist.

I would have snorted in amusement had my mind not been preoccupied with other things and internal groaning.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

The short ride back to the castle seemed to take a thousand years. My abdomen throbbed, as did my head with the pulse of my heart which thumped through my ears. I struggled to keep myself completely conscious as many factors sought to take control of my body. The lingering flu plagued my muscles with weakness; the faint dragged my awareness down into dizzying tiredness.

Chigusa sat in front of me, and I must have drifted in and out of consciousness for occasionally I woke to find myself leaning against her, with my head against her shoulder. It could have been quite a sight for some if they paid attention – a barely conscious Samurai riding a horse with a beautiful noblewoman.

If I were more awake, I probably would have made more of an effort to not rely on her so much during that ride to keep myself upright. However, my body – much to my incredible frustration – was not at the command of my mind.

This was the second time I had passed out within these recent years since coming to feudal Japan. It was surprising, as I had fainted much more so back in the modern era, a result of genetics someone had suggested as my mother also had a history of fainting. However, I would have suspected to faint a lot more here in Japan than back in England. The environment and way of living in this feudal era was so much harder than what I had been brought up with in the UK. And yet this was only the second time I had passed out.

Perhaps my body was becoming accustomed to the hard life and environment, a result of having no choice in order to survive. Or maybe it had something to do with my curious case of stalled ageing?

In legends and myth, immortality was said to also bless many with strong bodies and good health aside from eternal life.

Was . . . was that the case with me as well?

I did not know, and neither did the Akechi. If anyone were to know, then it had to be the Superiors.

_. . . Where . . . where are they . . .?_

“Chigusa-hime? Osamu-sama!?”

The shrill voice forced me to drag myself upright to some degree with a tired groan. I felt sick.

My sight was still dotted with white stars. They had not gone away completely since fainting, however, it was just about clear enough for me to make out my surroundings.

We were back at the castle in one of the outer courtyards. Yuko had rushed down from the veranda.

Chigusa dismounted the horse, which gave me the time and space to raise a clumsy hand against my forehead. My palm and fingers were like ice, which was painful for my hands, but refreshingly cool for my face.

“What happened?” Yuko asked with worry as she came up to the horse. Seeing the frantic concern in her expression was warming to my heart. This entire experience of suffering from the flu had made me realise how much I missed being taken care of. Yuko was always there, always the nanny of the castle, and a wonderful nanny she was.

I exhaled slowly. “I was attacked.”

Slowly and carefully, I dismounted the horse, staying low over its back as I knew I would lose my balance if my head was too far away from something close which I could use as grounding. Chigusa did not help, which was not surprising, nor did I have the energy to take offence to it.

Yuko inhaled sharply, taking my arm for support. “Were you hurt?”

I smiled faintly. “Just punched. And fainted. Pathetic, I know.”

Yuko scowled. “No, it isn’t.” She helped walk me back to the castle. Chigusa had all but left my thoughts, so I did not know what she did afterwards. I knew I should have thanked her, but other things were on my mind. The taint of bitterness at the slight guilt I felt was sour. I would have to find another chance later.

Yuko and I headed back into the castle. The light was fading as the afternoon began to die.

“Osamu.”

Yuko stopped, and I dragged my gaze up from the floor. Lady Akechi stood at the next screen. Automatically my insides tensed with that familiar mixture of nervousness, respect and mingling fondness, the latter of which was the least. I would always think well of the Lady Akechi for she was one of the Akechi Lords that took care of me for all these years, and in the same way I was the adopted daughter of Mitsukuni, I too was the adopted daughter of Lady Akechi.

However, I could never look on her as a mother.

With a wince, I unhooked my arm from Yuko, and the two of us bowed. “Lady Akechi.”

Her expression was impassive and cool, unbroken by any emotion by my hunched posture. Lady Akechi’s eyes flickered to Yuko.

“Yuko,” she said. “The servants need assistance in the kitchen.”

Yuko bowed her head lower. “Yes, Lady Akechi,” she eventually said. Biting on her lower lip from worry, she retreated from Lady Akechi and I, resisting a glance in my direction, before walking away to the kitchens and obeying the Lady’s dismissal.

I remained bowed, not risking rising. It was rare for Lady Akechi to seek out anyone. Whenever she did, it was often more frightening than being called to her quarters. Regardless of the method however, the result was often the same – a lecture of some sort.

When Yuko had left, Lady Akechi’s attention turned to me. Her gaze felt like a physical weight against me, as it always did.

“Come with me, Osamu,” she instructed, her voice calm.

I nodded, my head heavy with tiredness and wariness. Was I in trouble?

The anticipation which squeezed my heart upon that thought was unpleasant, but familiar, like with all people. There was not one person who did not get into trouble over something. A child with their parent, an employee with their employer. In my case, it was a clan member with the clan mistress.

Or did something happen in the castle while I was in the town? What about Mitsuhide? Was he alright? When I left him he was in the middle of overflowing paperwork and documents which had to be read and signed.

Now that I had come back to the castle regretting my decision to go out carelessly, guilt returned to my heart.

_I should have stayed and helped him today. What was I thinking? _I sighed heavily. _It’s not like me to cast aside the need of another for my own pleasure. Sure, I have that internal war but usually the guilty conscious wins._

_Well obviously not this time, _another internal voice pointed out snidely. I did not have the energy to scowl at myself in anger over my selfishness. Inside, my spirits fell.

I followed Lady Akechi, nearly tripping over a step along the way in my clumsiness. What a sight I must have been; shoulders slouched, head down, one hand gently pressed against my abdomen and reactions slow with a pale face. Very different to the officer, Akechi Osamu.

The walk felt like a hike, but eventually we arrived to her chambers deep within the castle. My heart thumped uncomfortably. I focused on taking deep breaths as the pressure of my nervously beating heart increased my feeling of light-headedness. I had plenty of experience passing out and fainting for whatever reason, before in the past. It was astonishing that in the years I had been here in sixteenth century Japan that it had rarely happened.

The temperature was warm inside the castle in comparison to the biting bitterness of outside. But at the moment, it made my light-headedness feel slightly worse.

I tried to shut it out, focussing on the room. A few maids were ready to attend to whatever Lady Akechi wished.

“Leave us,” she said to them however as we entered the room.

“Yes, Lady Akechi,” they intoned with a deep bow, before rising and then closing the screen behind them as they left.

Lady Akechi appeared to barely notice or acknowledge their presences and exit, but I knew better than to suspect her of obliviousness. All of them were far more observant than they appeared. Not only was it a trait of their positions as Lords and Ladies. But it was their blood as well, their _true_ identities. Some could even say they had the sight of a God, almost all-seeing and all-knowing without batting an eyelid of surprise. Everything seemed expected.

She sat down, and so I sat down opposite her. I almost exhaled in extraordinary relief, for it alleviated much of the tiredness and dizziness with my head closer to ground level.

The sounds of the castle buzzed around us. It was a soft sound, again, something that the quiet of winter created with a lulling effect of sleepiness. The lamplight flickered gently, but it was steady and the glow was warm and settling on my eyes.

But the quiet of the room itself was tense. All the ‘what if’ scenarios ran through my head. What if I did not let my frustration of being indoors get the better of me? What if I stayed behind to help Mitsuhide with his work rather than go out with Mitsuharu? What if I kept my wits about me and did not get into a fight?

Some bodyguard and friend I was.

I kept my head bowed in reverence, nor could I find the will to bring my gaze up to meet the piercing stare of the Lady. But I could feel her gaze on me as well as if I was looking at her in return. There was something about non-human stares . . .

In the end, I prostrated myself and formally bowed. “Forgive my selfishness, Lady Akechi. I should not have left the castle without Mitsuhide-sama’s permission. Additionally I apologise for my involvement in the events of the town.”

I used to be shocked and frightened at the speed at which the Lords and Lady of the Akechi found out events that had happened either close by or just recently. I used to wonder if they had spies or some sort of astral-travelling ability. But now I knew better than to jump to conclusions like the latter. Of course the Purebloods and Oni would have their own form of spies, but in addition to that, their hearing was strikingly sharp. They could hear the whole castle and beyond.

There was a moment of silence.

“Sit up, Osamu,” Lady Akechi instructed.

I obeyed. She watched me calculatingly.

“Were you seen?”

I shook my head. “No, My Lady. I was attacked in the alleys. The offenders were intoxicated and I was not recognised. Luckily, Chigusa-hime sent them away for I was incapable of doing so myself.”

As soon as I said that, another twinge of guilt pinched me. Mentioning Chigusa and her involvement gave away the fact that she was out of the castle grounds for unknown reasons without clearance or a guard. That with which would therefore look poorly on the hosts for not providing her with the ‘protection’ she needed as a noble lady. Of course, to those in the castle who knew the truth behind those really living within, none of the Oni needed protection, for they were more than capable against the average person out in the streets.

I should not care if she got into trouble for it, but I found myself caring, despite our clashes in personality. She _helped_ me.

“Please do not punish Chigusa-hime for her involvement,” I requested heavily. “It was my mistake.”

Lady Akechi shifted in her position slightly and looked away with a small frown. She looked as if she were about to say something, for her expression looked faintly thoughtful. However, she then exhaled. “It has not been long since the incident at the river and your following sickness,” she said, moving the tangent of the conversation away from what I was expecting. I blinked through my semi-dazed haze.

“You are truly a member of the Akechi clan, and you appear as indestructible and as wise as a true Lord should. Even to us, we forget that you do not share our blood or true nature. However, the reality is that despite your seemingly youthful appearance, you are still human, and you have limitations and weaknesses like any other normal human,” Lady Akechi spoke.

I stared at my lap in silence.

What she said . . . had a striking amount of truth to it, truth which was forgotten over the years. Even I had to admit that her words struck home with a bitter reminder.

To an outsider, I fit in with the Akechi clan almost perfectly. I was tall, a swordsman as well as supposedly ‘wise’ and ‘knowledgeable’ because of my upbringing in the twenty-first century. I looked and seemed as indestructible as the people believed. And even I too thought along similar lines. How could I not? During my teenage years in England, who would have ever thought that a very normal girl would end up as a samurai seven years on? I used to faint a lot and occasionally fall ill with a cold during the winter, but since learning to live as a Japanese native in Mino, everything seemed to have gone so well – too well. It had taken me some time, but I was at the stage now where I could wield a katana in actual battle. Now I was slowly learning the naginata too. I had taken lives and condemned others. I had saved lives and made differences in others.

However, the influenza – my first one in my life just last week – had reminded me now just how fragile the human body was; it had reminded me how fragile _I_ was to _myself._

“Despite your wisdom, you are also careless, Osamu,” Lady Akechi said coolly. “One must know their own limitations, and learn to recognise when they have stepped beyond that boundary.” She readjusted her long haori more neatly around the sleeves. “Your actions impact others. Today we were lucky that no one saw the incident or will recall it. With all the events combined, you have brought some good reputation to your name and therefore to ours. However, you have caused us as a clan, internally in our hearts, hassle.”

I bit on my lower lip, holding my breath in preparation.

“You are forbidden from leaving this castle for seven days. Use that time to reflect on your actions and the impact you yourself have on others,” Lady Akechi instructed.

My eyes widened and my lips parted.

“You are dismissed.”

I sat there for a moment, stunned at the punishment.

_I’m being forbidden from leaving? House . . . house arrest? _I thought in disbelief.

I had been shouted at and smacked during my childhood as punishment which stung enough as they did. But never _grounded_. To be honest, I thought the whole concept of grounding was feeble and pathetic, yet now that it was applied to me, I was horrified.

Yet it was not just that which stunned me. It was Lady Akechi’s words.

Did . . . did I cause that much trouble for them? Was I that much of a hassle without realising?

My numb brain commanded me to move, seconds too long after Lady Akechi’s dismissal. I bowed without a word, and left her room, sliding the screen shut.

I did not move at first from behind the screen, but then managed to make my feet move, carrying me away from her quarters. I could not believe it.

It was normal to feel upset at the strict telling off. I had had plenty and was still getting plenty of that through training and more philosophical lessons. My technique of overcoming the initial hurt was through mind-set. I took every lesson and bollocking as a form of constructive criticism, so then I could improve for the next time. It was the only way I could survive harsh telling offs.

But the ones that took me longer to get over were the ones aimed more directly at me as a person, such as this one.

How much had I been missing?

* * * * *

Early that evening before dinner, I sat with Yuko as she repaired some haoris. I was already wearing a yukata, tied around the hips like a man rather than a woman, for the higher it was tied, the more my abdomen throbbed in the dull ache of pain as that was where I was punched. No doubt there would be an impressive bruise there tomorrow.

My own haori was wrapped around my shoulders while I held a mug of steaming tea, courtesy of Yuko’s kindness. I always enjoyed sitting with Yuko. To me, she was perhaps the most normal woman here to treat me as a general person. Of course, she respected my rank, but she still spoke to me about many things, and vice versa, as woman to woman because after all, I was female.

After I had managed to get changed into something more comfortable, I went to sit with her in her quarters with the other maids. However, they were about the castle attending to other things and preparing the evening meal. It allowed her and I to talk to each other alone.

And so I told her of what Lady Akechi said.

“I have been selfish,” I sighed glumly. “I know _now_ that I should not have gone out today. I’ve made such a mess of things. What was I thinking?! Not staying to help Mitsuhide-sama?! I should have kept myself on a leash and resisted the urge to go out.”

“It is understandable, Osamu-sama. You are not used to your body suddenly restricting you after having been so healthy for so many years,” Yuko said with understanding, wearing an open smile. “You are not selfish. In fact, you are the opposite. You go out amongst the town’s people as one of them, teach them things, walk through the woods and listen to the farmers. You cook in the kitchens with us and clean around the castle – and you fight for us and protect us. Such a noble is rarely heard of and loved. We are grateful to you.”

My grim and worried mood did not lighten. “But I still feel so bad for what I did today. I was more focussed on alleviating my own irritation at being cooped up inside for so long. In doing so, I am sure I’ve angered Mitsuhide-sama as well as the Lady and other Lords. _And _then some hooligans attack me _and _I couldn’t fight back.”

That was what bothered me most; the fear and worry of Mitsuhide’s anger, and my inability to fight back in the alley. Despite Mitsuhide being sixteen and me still viewing him as a boy, he was mature enough now to behave as a man. I had no doubt that he would be angry at my actions. But what plagued me more was the simple yet selfish action of leaving him to do all the work when I could have easily sat with him and divided the load. I really _was_ selfish.

In addition to that was the blow to my pride at the scuffle in town. Under normal circumstances, I would have been able to win. I had defeated true samurai and enemy officers! Yet today I was floored by louts. It was a humiliating blow to my honour and pride. It made me realise as Lady Akechi had so bluntly put it, I was still human, and a human woman at that. Physically, I was weak.

“I deserve this punishment,” I muttered in self-pity.

Yuko paused her needlework and looked at me. “It is not a punishment, Osamu-sama, but a moment of reflection for you to realise that our clan leaders probably understand you better than you realise. Your requirement to stay within the castle grounds is most likely a chance for you to be in a safe environment where you can then rest to recover your full strength after your sickness. You know our clan leaders, especially Mitsuhide-sama, would never punish you out of malice, for you are one of them. Everything they . . . we . . . do, is because we care – though they will not admit that,” she whispered the last part with a slight giggle.

Her giggle and smile brought a slight smile to my own, mingled with surprise. “I had not thought of it like that,” I murmured, gazing down into the mug within my hands as the tea steamed. The steam warmed my face.

Yuko’s words sank in, slowing shedding light like the slow rise of dawn over misty mountains on the meaning behind the words of Lady Akechi and all the past words and actions of those around me.

“_You’re an idiot. Don’t do something like this again.”_

Mitsuhide’s words came back to me.

“_I’m asking you as a friend.”_

In the same way that guilt and worry plagued my heart, so did it concern theirs in the same way.

A swift rush of warmth, loving warmth spread through my body, warmer and softer than any heat that could radiate from a brazier.

I suddenly laughed quietly once in silence, shaking my head. “I really am an idiot,” I breathed under my breath, and took a sip of my tea.

* * * * *

Mitsuhide stood outside close by to the servants’ quarters but within the shadows. Beneath a veranda roof his arms were crossed as he leant back against a post, resting his head against it and watched the dark sky. It was cloudy and cold. His breath misted in the evening.

The town was quiet, its sound muffled still by the thick snow. Maybe it would snow again tonight. He could smell and feel it in the air, while Aki could usually tell by sight of the clouds.

The sound of the castle was louder, the chatter of maids and the occasional laughter from a guard drifted through the air. There was the clink of bowls and the clack of utensils, boiling water and frying oil; the pad of feet against tatami as well as the booted foot against the gravelled courtyards. Some birds still sang, but most were quiet as the darkness set it.

Sometimes Mitsuhide found it difficult to distinguish sounds from the other, often depending on his level of concentration which was sometimes effected by his mood or awareness and energy levels. Tonight however it was easier. The snow, for one, helped filter out other unnecessary sounds. And second, he was alone outside where it was easier to hear his own thoughts.

Despite all the sounds, only a few were the focus of his attention.

Mitsuhide listened to Chigusa’s footsteps around her room in the castle. They were very soft, almost inaudible, like her breath and the rustle of the silk of her kimono. More often than not, silence emanated from her room.

“_Where did you go this afternoon?” Mitsunobu asked her when she had returned with Aki._

_Chigusa’s reply was silence._

“_What did you see while you were out?” Mitsunobu continued, unfazed by Chigusa’s silence nor of where she had gone. They all knew she had left the castle. “Osamu-sama has been a true gentleman and Lady to take the blame for both her mistake as well as your adventure.”_

_The silence continued from Chigusa. The click of the pieces of Go was all tha_ _t_ _ filled th_ _e_ _ space as Mitsunobu played a game against himself. _

“_I am intrigued as to what made you wish to venture outside however. It is unlike my daughter to begin taking an interest in the outside world.”_

_Again, silence._

“_You must understand however that it is not in a Lady’s place to go out alone, especially one with little understanding of such a world beyond our own of nobility and Oni.”_

“_Osamu-sama goes out alone,” Chigusa finally spoke. “Not even Mitsuhide-sama goes out alone.”_

_The following silence was one of surprise, but it was brief. “Osamu is an exception,” Mitsunobu said casually._

“_The people speak highly of her, of them.” The confused frown could be heard in Chigusa’s voice._

“_They have governed the people well.”_

_Chigusa was quiet. “Was the late Akechi Mitsukuni respected?”_

_The clack of game pebbles stopped. Mitsunobu exhaled softly. “He was more than respected.”_

_There was a ruffle of silk. “They call Osamu a young Mitsukuni-sama,” she murmured._

_There was a pause, followed by a deep chuckle. “Is that so?”_

_Chigusa said nothing. Mitsunobu took a sip of tea and continue placing the pieces of the board down. “Regardless, do not do something similar again. At night, you be permitted when the town sleeps. But until you have a deeper understanding of the ways of the commoners, do not do something so careless again. You showed kindness today to Osamu-sama and I am sure she is aware of it, but if the louts responsible recall your face, we may have to intervene.”_

“_She . . . she _thanked _. . . me,” Chigusa whispered, barely audible._

_The occasional, soft clack continued, but it was growing slower as the game within the player’s mind became more complicated._

“_How does that make you feel?”_

_There was no answer from Chigusa._

It was an interesting conversation that Mitsuhide had listened to. It was surprising in many ways, for he was beginning to see more clearly what was in Chigusa’s thoughts and what her thought process was becoming and following.

Clearly, Aki’s presence and behaviour was having an impact on Chigusa. It confused her to the extent the young noblewoman ventured into the town alone. Even though Chigusa had not answered Mitsunobu’s first question directly, she had already indirectly given him and therefore Mitsuhide an answer.

_She wanted to hear the thoughts of the common folk,_ Mitsuhide smiled, faintly pleased that his cousin was finally beginning to take an interest, even if it was through Aki. He was aware of how much the townspeople adored Aki. It must have come as a surprise to Chigusa who initially saw Aki as nothing more than a common person who happened to live alongside the Akechi. Blood was not everything.

Hearing that Aki was sometimes called a young Mitsukuni-sama did not come as much of a surprise to him either. However, it made his smile fade, replaced with the old wound of sorrow from the passing of his father.

Aki had told him once, when Mitsuhide was still a child, that Mitsukuni’s personality resembled her own true biological father. Mitsuhide did not know what Aki’s true father was like, but he had noticed a connection between Mitsukuni and Aki from early on. It was a connection that Mitsuhide did not have. He had it with Aki, but not with his father, and it had made him envious in the past, and was one of the main sources of his inner conflict with Aki in his heart over his father’s death.

Of the three brother Lords, Mitsuhide perhaps resembled a figure between his father and his uncle Mitsuyasu.

Nevertheless, despite Chigusa’s ignorance, her observation – or listening rather – had been correct. And no doubt after the events of the day from what he had gathered, Chigusa would be very thoughtful for the continuing weeks of winter to come.

Mitsuhide would find out the details soon enough of what had happened in the town. However, he refused to see Aki first. He listened to her talk to Yuko, and heard the worry and guilt in her voice.

_Good,_ he thought strictly. _You should understand the ramifications of your actions. In the end, we are a noble clan, and honour and pride for the clan must come first. But . . ._ his expression softened. _We do see you as one of our own. We are your family, and you are our family. I hope you understand how much you worried us._

It was a realisation, for them all. Even _they_ began to forget that Aki was not Oni. But her sickness was like the ringing of the guard tower bells, an alarm which woke them up. It woke _him_ up. He was so used to her walking beside him as an equal now. They trained together and fought together. She seemed as indestructible as _they_ were, in character and body.

However, that was just an illusion.

“_I really am an idiot,”_ he had heard her say just now with Yuko.

Mitsuhide closed his eyes and sighed softly. Her tone had said it all. She had seen it at last.

_You really are an idiot, _he thought to himself. The warmth in his heart was powerful however, powerful enough to ache. _An idiot that we care about immensely. _

* * * * *

The evening was late, perhaps coming on close to the hour of the Rat. Mitsuhide was still awake, working into the night. The amount of paperwork that had to be done was no laughing matter. It would take him weeks. What was Dousan thinking?

Mitsuhide was still in a foul mood from the sudden load which had made it through from Inabayama Castle. Despite his position of trust within the Saito Clan, Mitsuhide did not like Dousan, none of them did. He was a true Viper of Mino, sharp and cunning, calculating and easily just as merciless.

However, the Toki were gone from the seats of power within the human world now, withdrawn to a minor middle-class clan. They still possessed power in the supernatural realm, but that power and influence had little role in the human world.

There was stability in Mino at the current time however, and that was most important for the people. For the clan leaders, everything was a waiting game. And so the Akechi waited and watched, as always.

Therefore right now, Mitsuhide could do nothing about his work. He had obtained a high position within the trust of Dousan and the rank of his militia and politics. Mitsuhide would not do anything to jeopardise that delicate position of convenience.

Some of the castle was still awake, as the sounds drifted to his ears and settled into his mind through a passive consciousness which he did not fully acknowledge, too concentrated on his paperwork. He was tired.

_I should go to sleep soon, _he thought through the haze of his own personal thoughts, mixed with the words and numbers of the documents he had to read and sign. Half of the things he read he barely understood. The language was complicated and complex, designed to confuse those they referred to. It was a classic political technique to both confuse and intimidate the more common folk and protect those above it, hiding behind the legislation of whatever may come their way.

He had to concentrate hard.

Not too long after he had gained his post, he had given some documents to Aki to read, caving into her wish to see how they were written, since the tongue they spoke of this land was not her native tongue. He had watched her face as she read them, and it amused him to see her concentration, followed by her raised eyebrows, impressed and smiled sympathetically.

“_No matter what era, politics is just as stupidly complicated as always,” _she had scoffed.

She was right of course. Politics was always complicated, hence a noble’s requirement to study it their entire lives, learning to understand the meanings behind meanings behind more meanings. It required wit and intelligence. It was what divided the common folk from the higher classes.

“Mitsuhide-sama, can I come in?” A soft voice asked from behind him.

The voice made him jump, because it was the voice of the person he was not expecting to visit him today. Mitsuhide put down his brush, stood, and slid open the screen behind him.

Aki stood on the other side, hair down. Her body was slightly hunched forward, and she looked tired, but otherwise appeared normal. However, that tiredness caused Mitsuhide’s eyes to widen.

“Aki? What are you doing here? You should be asleep!” His low voice was harsh.

She snorted softly with a faint smile and a shake of her head. “I had to come over to say sorry.”

He stared at her. Had she been up this late thinking or her actions and over when to see him? She did not look in the best state. Was guilt that much on her mind?

He exhaled. “You silly woman. Come in and sit down.” He took her arm, guiding her into the room and shut the screen behind. She tripped slightly on her way in, but her balance was caught quickly due to his grip on her arm.

_Her arms are thinner than they were. She’s lost weight since her sickness,_ he noted with a slight sink of his heart. Her lack of appetite during that time had not gone unnoticed.

“You are half awake. You would not have tripped otherwise,” he said sternly, not letting go of her arm until she sat down close to his desk.

“Even if I did retire to bed earlier, I would still be awake and my sleep restless,” she breathed with grimness.

Mitsuhide brought the brazier closer. Aki’s eyes widened after a moment of blank staring. “No, no you don’t have to!”

“It is cold, Aki. This is for both our benefit,” he said simply, using the collective ‘our’. It had taken him a while, but gradually he had learnt to manipulate Aki to him by using collective pronouns which divided the attention, rather than focussed on just one. If he said that he also preferred the brazier closer, then she could not argue.

He brought the brazier closer and then sat down at his desk, making the split second decision then to decide it would be a good idea to pack away his work for the day.

“I’m sorry,” Aki got straight to the point, despite her voice being slow and tired. “I made a fool of myself today. Bad for the name, bad for myself, ignoring you and getting hurt in the process. I should not have left the castle.”

“No, you should not have,” Mitsuhide agreed.

Aki flinched slightly and her shoulders sank. There was an odd sense of satisfaction in hurting her this way. It made him feel . . . bigger in a sense, more of a Lord over her. But it was not just that. The best way for her to realise how much he and the others cared was through pain like this. And he knew that she had realised it. He felt her attitude shift from her presence alone.

“However,” he added. “You have acknowledged your mistake and submitted. Despite some of the careless things that you do, I know better than to believe they are out of negligence.”

He held her gaze, watching her expression soften with dismay at his forgiveness. “Tell me what happened today?” He asked her gently.

It took her a while. Her mind appeared to be in a daze. And then the events of the day unfolded. Her explanation was slow, where there would be times she would just stop, her mind gone blank as she tried to remember the point she was working on, before then remembering it and continued on.

As she explained, he slowly cleared away the papers, bamboo scrolls, his stamps and ink and brushes.

Eventually however, Mitsuhide finally heard of the full day’s events, with minor details and all. Her future children would be blessed to have a story-telling mother, rather than a mother who was always distant as in most if not all noble families.

The thought made him stiffen. _That’s an unusual thought, _he admitted. Luckily, Aki did not notice his tensed posture, and he pushed the thoughts away quickly. It took a surprising amount of effort.

“Guaranteed I’ll have a bruise tomorrow,” Aki grunted, trying to sit straighter, but deflated again.

Sleeping anger stirred within Mitsuhide’s heart. He could not stand the thought of anyone close to him being hurt.

True, much of it was inevitable, such as in battle and he merely had to take that risk and trust that his aides would come through. But in this case, Aki’s weakened state had been taken advantage of without any antagonistic catalyst.

From within the sleeves of his haori which draped over his folded arms, his fists clenched. He wanted to hurt them . . . he really wanted to hurt them . . .

“I’m now forbidden from leaving the castle for seven days, which is a fair punishment,” she sighed heavily. “I accept Lady Akechi’s punishment in its entirety. But it was you I really disobeyed. If you wish to add to my discipline, then I will accept that too.” She bowed before him.

He forgot his anger in a moment, gasping slightly. Mitsuhide rose, stepped around his desk and took her shoulders, pushing her back upright. “Why are you bowing? I have already forgiven you.”

She smiled sadly at him. “In my eyes, what I did in terms of the fight is no big deal. But I feel ashamed for walking out on you. As a friend, that was unacceptable. It’s the guilt.”

Mitsuhide searched her eyes. She was sincere. How could his chest suddenly hurt this much?

He sighed heavily, hanging his head for moment. _You are more than a friend. _He laughed once, softly and raised his head to look at her once again.

“What’s done is done. Luck was on our side today, and you have already paid for your mistake with a punch to the gut. I think that’s enough physical discipline for you. But if it will appeal to your conscious, then work with me for the next seven days. Share my burden as administrator and duty to serve and protect this land.”

Aki stared at him, and then, embraced him. It was an action that Mitsuhide had not been expecting, for it stilled his breath and stunned his mind. Perhaps for the first time, his mind truly did disintegrate, because he could not move, nor think. The shock was too strong.

But it was not an unpleasant shock. His heart skipped a beat. It skipped multiple Warmth and a strange sense of safety and inexplicable trust passed through his chest.

She was touching him, embracing him, this close.

Aki pulled back, and smiled, almost in relieved thanks. “I can do that,” she agreed softly to his requested order. “I am supposed to be your right hand after all.”

Mitsuhide barely remembered bidding her goodnight, but when he finally came to some sort of focused, conscious awareness, he was still standing at the screen, staring down a dark room where upon his shadow danced along the tatami from the lamplight behind him, facing the same direction that Aki had walked.

He ran a hand through his hair, undoing the band that held it, and let the long black strands fall down his back. Mitsuhide turned back into the room and shut the screen. But he remained standing there, and pressed a hand to his heart.

It was beating quickly.

He pressed his hands to his closed eyes and sighed deeply.

His whispers of her heart and subconscious were getting louder.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

**1545; January**

Four weeks on, I, as well as Taka had now made a full recovery. I had visited him, Chiyo and Ichirou only once since my incident which resulted in my one week confinement. After I had gotten my act together and divided Mitsuhide’s work between us, it had kept me plenty busy, while also alleviating much of the stress from Mitsuhide’s shoulders. I did like seeing him working though, sat at his desk and reading and writing. Maybe it was that studious look in his eyes, showing that he was every bit a scholar as he was a warrior. Or maybe it was because by seeing him concentrating hard at a desk, I could also see myself in him from the times I stressed out over my exams. There was no dislike or dread in his eyes though, just determination, like how I felt during my GCSE exams, which I aced. I suppose the reason why did not worry over them and just focused was because I knew I would pass them, and indeed I did because they were easy. When A Levels came around however . . . well, that was when the hatred started.

I hoped Mitsuhide would never come to that stage with his work. But what he was doing now was nothing compared to what awaited him as he grew into a man and eventually a general.

It was January, meaning that I was now twenty-six. Again, despite my lack of ageing I could well just say that I was still eighteen, but in my mind I still counted every year which went past. Now, I had been alive for twenty-six years and it made me wonder. How would I look now if I continued to age? Would I start having any wrinkles? Would I look mature enough for my age? Would I even start getting white hairs?! After all, I had friends as young as the age of fifteen with white hairs already growing.

It also had me thinking of whether I would be working and where? Writing was never a stable career, but would I have done well enough by now to have a published book? Would I still be working in whatever shop I worked in if I had gone down that route? Or would I have done as my parents planned in the end? Going into some form of medicine?

I wondered if I would be in a relationship by now if I was still in the modern era. Would I even be married? It was always the expectation for women to be married in their twenties, although most of the time, that never happened. Careers came first now, and families were second.

I suppose that was how my situation was here as well. I was twenty-six, and even Lady Akechi had not sought out a suitor to marry me off to, of which I was grateful, yet also puzzled. It was not in the nature of the people in this day and age to withhold marriages, especially with girls and women. A thought which stayed in my mind was because most people still believed I was male, not believing that I was female, in addition to my post as purely Mitsuhide’s bodyguard – or retainer rather was the correct term – and personal officer and confidant as it were. Despite belonging to the Akechi clan and serving the Saitos, my fate in the end was ultimately decided by Mitsuhide.

It brought some relief to my well-being, for I did not believe that Mitsuhide would get rid of me easily. There was no hinting of such at least. And as my most trusted friend, I trusted him to not send me away. I was well versed in the ways of living in the sixteenth century now and I knew enough of the events in this era to give me good standing to survive alone.

However, I did not know the areas of Japan beyond Mino. I would be lost if I was to leave. At least in twenty-first century England I had a car as well as numerous bank accounts of savings. And it was easy to get a standard job. Here though . . . well, it was different.

Mitsuhide in reality, had control over my fate. The sixteen, nearly seventeen year old had my life in the palm of his hands. In my own reality, I would not allow such a thing. My experience of teenagers was that they were reckless and having one of _them_ in control of my fate and destiny made me shiver.

Yet with Mitsuhide – true I still saw him as a teenager rather than a man – he held himself very differently. He may be young and therefore generally inexperienced in life affairs; he may be an Oni who occasionally had to feed off blood, blessed with inhuman strength that could easily destroy those around him; yet, I felt completely safe with him.

It made me wonder as well, if he felt the same in my presence. For in truth, I too held his life in the palm of my hands, as the only one alive in this world who knew what his fate held ahead of him. But he did not know that. He could not know it, at least not yet. I wanted to tell him, perhaps more than anything, to lift the burden of knowing from my shoulders.

But Mitsukuni was no longer here. I had to rely on my own judgement now. And I prayed to the Gods that my judgement would not bring about disaster. I would never forgive myself if my actions caused tragedy to the Akechi.

The snow had cleared away a bit, leaving just patches of wet ice around on the town’s roads and in the fields. However, the high roads over the mountains and hills were still blocked. There would not be any travel until late February or March.

It was cloudy though today. And I gazed up at the sky, pausing where I was in the garden. The clouds were heavy and white, of the same consistency from horizon to horizon. The air was bitingly cold, but not in the minuses yet. The atmosphere was still.

_It will snow again soon,_ I thought, pulling my haori tighter around me. I still loved the snow. And like a child, seeing the first snow for the winter always excited me. But after a while, one gets fed up with it. It becomes difficult to go out, to travel, to do anything in general. And like everywhere, the snow was deadly as it melted because undercoats had turned to ice.

It was not as bad as the UK though, where it really did turn to ice that stuck to the roads and pavements. It made walking anywhere, especially to and from school a challenging hike. The best part of it was probably all the school kids who slid around and fell over across the ice while trying to look cool doing tricks.

The birds sang in the air, which brought life to an otherwise still atmosphere. Even if the castle still buzzed like the town and the bubbling of the river, nothing ever felt right during the day unless the birds themselves filled the air with their song and voices.

Everyone knew that when the birds fell silent during the day, no matter where, something ominous approached. It was often the only warning the people had before natural disasters such as earthquakes.

Something else drifted through the air. The melody of a shamisen, otherwise known as a three-stringed lute played in the air. Originated from the Chinese sanxian, it was a beautiful classical stringed instrument of which I enjoyed listening to, alongside the guzheng and guqin, otherwise known as the zither, and the flute. All of these instruments originated in China, and without surprise, the Japanese adopted that part of the Chinese culture as well. And who could blame them? It was beautiful. The only difference in the modern day was that the Japanese cherished their culture and traditions, while sadly, much of such beauty in culture was lost in China after the Revolution brought about by Chairman Mao.

Nevertheless, much of the old beauties and traditions of culture still remained, having been saved by the scholars who sacrificed their lives to protect the history from Mao’s fire of industrialisation. Every time I thought about it, it puzzled me to no end as to why the Chinese worshipped such a man. So I asked my uncle, a government official in Hong Kong with powerful influence both there and in China, why. He said he asked the same question to other officials – for he was British – and the reply was, ‘Despite the evil of suffering that Mao imparted onto the Chinese people, he did do one good thing which is reflected in today’s world. He taught the Chinese people how to stand up and not to take crap from outsiders, the prime example being the Japanese invaders. He taught the Chinese people that they were their own masters and leaders.’

And true enough, now that I thought about it from what I could recall, China was one of the great powers of the world, alongside Russia and America. And that terrified the Americans certainly, especially the Japanese.

“Too bad Japan and China have such a bad relationship from World War Two,” I mused in pity, muttering in English. It was the only way I could keep the language alive in my head and heart. The accent was no longer as crisp as it used to be, having adopted the Japanese accent from my usage in the language. “It would be nice if I could do something about it from here,” I sighed to myself, still in my mothertongue. “But that would mean doing something huge to make a difference in the mind-set of the people here. Or maybe I can do something similar to Nostradamus – write a book of ‘prophecy’.” 

The idea brought a dark smirk to my face. I could go down in history as a legend then. It fed my vain ego.

“_Time should never be tampered with, except by those who would be able to comprehend the full consequence of such actions. But those hidden people would understand even better the devastation of such actions, thereby they would not touch it either,” _dad had wisely said once when I was very young.

“_What is their purpose then if they can use it but don’t?” _I had asked.

“_They guard and protect it from idiots that would want to control it_._”_

A powerful sense of longing swept through me. Eight years. I had never gone this long without going back to China. My hopes of going back to England deflated more with each year, especially while on this side of the planet. But China at least, was not too far away.

I closed my eyes, and listened to the music. The notes fell into my ears with careful precision, showing care and delicacy in each note produced. It calmed my troubled mind.

_It has improved,_ I thought with wry amusement. _But it still lacks something – spirit._

I continued to walk around the veranda towards the source of the music. I stepped softly, but I did not try to conceal the sound of my steps from the near musician for she would hear me as far away as the town.

Soon enough, I came to the room. One of the screens was open I noted as I approached. The melody faltered, and my eyebrows rose.

The falter was unexpected, especially as the melody was going well without hesitation so far. The musician attempted to correct the mistake, but the notes were rough and the vibration of the notes through the air was almost scratchy. The musician stopped.

“Osamu-sama?”

I had not stopped walking yet, and continued to the open screen from where the musician called. Outside, I paused and looked in.

Chigusa was sat on the tatami, holding the neck of the shamisen while its base rested across her knelt lap.

Despite her young age, Mitsunobu said that Chigusa had taken to the shamisen early in her life, hence her proficiency in the instrument now. She played it often during these empty days, but because she herself lacked much spirit and emotion, so did her music.

Yet, it did seem to be improving over the weeks. It had certainly improved since the beginning of the winter. The pieces were still the same, but they were not so . . . dull, anymore. There was still a lot to be done, but not everything could happen overnight.

Chigusa looked up at me from where she sat, beautiful as ever. But something was a little off. She looked . . . flustered? Was that even possible for someone like her? Perhaps, just not as obvious as in normal people. That cold mask was still plastered over the girl’s face.

Then something which I was not quite expecting happened. She bowed _first_.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. That was unusual. What had caused her to suddenly learn manners? She never bowed first, even though she should in the Akechi Castle.

I mirrored the bow from where I stood, before returning my hands into the depths of my sleeves in front of me. “Why did you stop playing?” I asked her.

She seemed surprised by the question and looked away. Chigusa did not answer right away, and I did not prompt her from where I stood by the side of the open screen. Standing directly in the open space of the doorway was never usually a wise move in delicate situations. It made people feel boxed in.

“Would Osamu-sama listen to me play?” Chigusa finally said, her voice so quiet and tight I could barely hear her. But I did. My jaw almost dropped, and it took great effort to not so openly display the astonishment of her request on my face. She wanted _me_ to sit down and listen to her play the shamisen? And even more astounding, she used my _title_ in her form of address.

Where had that unyielding pride gone? I frowned slightly in suspicion. Was this a ploy of some sort? Something to embarrass me? Crush my own pride? Insult me?

Alright, the last one seemed plausible, but the others, no. She was not that kind of person. Despite her icy personality, she had never actually embarrassed me. For all her noble air, she did not seem as witty or nasty as one would suspect. Could Mitsuhide’s and my analysis of her be correct after all? Was she just a doll learning how to _feel_ something inside?

She still annoyed me. Pampered children always irritated me. Saying that, I should find Nou-hime incredibly frustrating as well, but I did not, for the girl openly spoke to me and sought my opinions and views. She _respected _me, whereas Chigusa had originally looked down on me.

Originally . . .

What about now?

I held her eyes, silently debating. What did I see in those eyes now, in that expression? Her jaw was set and her expression was controlled. But her eyes were intense as they stared back at me. I did not see the empty doll within as I had done during this winter so far. There was actually some strength in that gaze, a bitter swallowing of pride mingled with a tiny thread of hope.

Hope . . . to think she would be capable of such a feeling. Had my eyes tricked me?

She dragged her gaze away, looking uncomfortable. “It . . . will not be long. I need a . . . _different_ opinion on my playing. The servants and my father’s praise are all the same.” It seemed to take a lot of effort for her to say those words, and it gave me some pleasure to see her struggle with her words for once. But her request appeared sincere. Judging from the way she spoke, she had rehearsed her request, but still took effort to speak them.

I frowned slightly, unable to not feel impressed by the lengths she had gone to swallow her pride and ask something of me.

“Very well,” I agreed, smoothing my brow and sat down, suddenly feeling hope myself. I did not like hating people. It tasted foul in the mouth. If there was something that could be done to improve the relationship between Mitsuhide’s cousin and I, then it would be a benefit for all. I could not openly do anything, could not tell her off, could not yell at her or point out all of her flaws. But little nudges here and there often went a long way, even subconsciously if the person was unwilling. One could not stop the mind from wandering away on its own to analyse and pick away at the events that had happened. I wondered if the incident with the louts had helped her see something. Did my thank you have an impact on her in any way?

I sat down half way between Chigusa and the open screen, sitting at a ninety-degree angle to her. Again, less imposing that way. For the help – even if unwilling – that she had given me during that incident, I owed her a debt. Listening to her play began to repay some of that. Perhaps this would help her see the benefits in helping others?

She repositioned the shamisen and seemed to take a deep and silent breath. Was she nervous? Why?

She began to play, and the notes rang out, a soft piece initially, but the notes quivered with a nervous unsteadiness. Chigusa had to stop and start again. But a similar thing happened a little further on so she stopped for a second time. Her posture was good and controlled, but part of her composure had cracked on her porcelain face. The nervousness was as obvious as day to me now.

My usual bitterness at her dampened slightly. Her hand was shaking I noted with concern. Was she well? Was she sick?

No that can’t be right. Oni did not get sick.

_Hell’s bells. She _is_ nervous! Why would I make her nervous?_

I leaned forward, covering her hand which held the bachi – the plectrum – and stilled the shaking with my light hold. Chigusa inhaled sharply, staring down and she froze.

“Relax,” I murmured. “I am no master of music, so you do not have to play a masterpiece. Pretend I am not here.” I smiled faintly, and her eyes flashed to my face.

Letting go of her hand, I sat back and closed my eyes. Maybe it would feel easier for her to play if I was not looking at her. Seemed odd, considering I thought people like her would relish in the eyes of others being on her. But then again, I was coming to realise she was not as pompous and arrogant as I initially thought. She was just a girl who had lived in a shut away world.

I waited. And eventually, Chigusa began to play. At first, the notes were nervous again. The slowness pointed out the initial unsteadiness of the musician. But then, as the piece carried on, the notes became steadier, smoother and the beauty of the instrument began to come out. The music sang in the still air. It let the notes travel as naturally as they could, creating a piece that was as soft as it was written to be.

My body relaxed as I listened. Chigusa had played this piece only a few times before during the winter, and each time it seemed to be bland and empty. The notes were beautiful but they had lacked the heart and spirit within them. One could almost say it was like acting. The performance was there, but it was just an act in the end, not the real thing.

This time however, there was something else in the music. There was . . . feeling, like the warmth of an early spring breeze that melted frost from the trees and began to gently blow away the thick cover of cloud which blanketed the land. It was the first signs of life.

There was still more that could be done in terms of the soul of the music, but considering the past times Chigusa had played this one, there was improvement.

At the end, I opened my eyes. Chigusa glanced at me briefly before looking away again.

“You play well,” I said, keeping my voice soft and avoiding firmness, because what I said earlier was true. I was no master of music. I had played the piano before, as expected of near enough every Chinese child. As did my mother and my sister. I had little interest in playing the instruments, but I did enjoy listening to a variety, especially the classic far eastern instruments. YouTube was therefore my source of music entertainment. I could hear what was bad and what was good. But that did not make me a master. Sometimes what sounded good to me turned out to be terrible to another!

“I have heard you play the shamisen over the winter months,” I continued. “And I have noticed there is a difference in your playing from then to now.”

Chigusa fell still. “A difference? Such as?”

“Feeling.”

She looked puzzled.

“All creative arts are often praised for their beauty and creativity. But that can be seen in a number of ways. The creativity comes from the soul and the beauty comes from the heart. People enjoy music and poetry because they can feel the creator’s feelings which have gone into the masterpiece to give it its soul and energy. Some music makes people jump up and down and dance with joy; others make them shed tears of sorrow and solitude, because the creator has poured those emotions into the piece so that people may feel and love what they hear,” I tried to explain. It was hard. “When you came at the beginning of this winter, your music, while played well from the pieces you learnt, lacked the necessary emotion to give the music its spirit, therefore the notes were empty and hollow.” I wondered if I had said too much for Chigusa stiffened and her expression grew cool. “Now however, your playing feels more emotive, like the first signs of spring from a frozen winter. I like it.”

Chigusa flinched, not expecting my comment it seemed and her eyes widened as she stared at me. Her white face turned slightly pink.

Pink?!

“You are mocking me,” she accused flatly, quickly looking away _again_. “Your praise is bland and almost insulting.”

“I don’t mock you. I merely give an opinion which you need not heed,” I replied. _Though an honest opinion should be more valued than empty ones given to you in fear,_ I wished I could add. “Play another.”

Chigusa sniffed. “Your criticism gives one the impression you do not like listening to this music which contradicts your praise.”

“Criticism is designed to be critical, Chigusa-hime, otherwise how would one become a master?” I said carefully and softly. “My criticism is not intended to hurt you, but to only help you achieve your potential which I know is vast. Please, play another.”

Chigusa hesitated, as if debating whether to stubbornly refuse or not. Luckily, she did not. So I closed my eyes again, and listened to the next melody that Chigusa began.

The morning continued like that, and gradually, Chigusa’s playing became less and less awkward. By the time noon came along, Chigusa played with ease in my presence.

* * * * *

The next morning, Mitsuhide trained in the dojo, but without the padding and masks. He wanted to feel loose and free, light. It was colder to begin with, without the padding to protect him from winter’s chill outside. But it did not take long to warm up.

He did not train alone. Aki trained with him, wearing the same and wielded her bamboo katana against his with sharp clacks. They stepped quickly, feet sliding lightly and stepping firmly across the tatami. Their bodies twisted, weight shifted from stance to stance, their blades clacked and clapped upon impact. The wood hissed deeply as their blades slid past the other, a deeper sound than steel on steel.

Mitsuhide felt the thrill as he sparred. He always enjoyed sparring against Aki over others, such as the guards or even with Makoto. His bouts against them had always been serious ones from either side, as if he truly did fight for his life (in his sessions with Makoto), or the guard fighting for his life (if sparring with a guard). With Aki on the other hand, it was more like a dance. Their styles of fighting were similar and their physiques, height and speed complimented each other. Against Aki he felt like he did not have to worry so much about hurting her, nor did he feel like he had to put all of his focus in to defeating her. Their spars were fights of balance.

But, she was not as alert with kendo as she had been a month ago. Mitsuhide passed her guard, half expecting her to divert his attack away into a counter as she usually would. But his attack followed through, causing him to blink into searing focus to halt his katana before he struck her side along the ribs.

Aki blinked in alarm, her arms still raised. She was breathing deeply and the sweat trickled from her brow. Mitsuhide pulled back, bringing his katana back to his side where he followed it through with the motion of sheathing it even though there was no scabbard tied to his belt. Aki also pulled back, lowering her bamboo katana. Her eyes were disappointed with herself and vaguely stunned by her mistake.

Makoto, standing along the side-lines with his arms crossed, also looked disappointed.

“Osamu,” he criticised, his expression strict. “Your reflexes have slowed. On the battlefield Mitsuhide would have severed your torso in half. You are at the stage now where mistakes even in training are unacceptable.”

Aki bowed low to him. “My apologies, Makoto-sensei,” she said breathlessly, bringing her deep breaths under control. “I will not make the same mistake again.”

“That is what you have said for the last week,” he pointed out mercilessly.

Aki’s jaw tightened.

“I understand that you have been unwell, but if this were a war then you would not have time to fully recover as you have done. Go, again,” Makoto instructed. She nodded and turned back to face Mitsuhide. In the past, such words would embarrass and shame her and she would have trouble looking at Mitsuhide in the eye. Similarly, Mitsuhide used to feel pity for her. All students had been through it.

However, he did wish he could pause again, even if it was just to give her a brief smile. Since her sickness, she appeared otherwise fully recovered on the outside for nearly three weeks now. But the toll on her body internally appeared to still not be fully mended and the evidence was clear from her temporary hold on intense training such as this. Her reflexes were slower, her concentration less sharp, her body no longer moved as quickly as it had done and she tired easily. Aki was doing better now than she had done last week when she went back to proper training. She pushed herself hard, for which Mitsuhide appreciated and respected. Despite his fondness for her, he would not slow down his training nor go easy on her. He wanted her back to full working capacity as much as she did. Many things stopped during the winter, but as Makoto said, things such as wars did not. Their part of the land was currently stable, but other parts of the country conflicted with constant battles and borders scuffles.

They fell into their stances.

“Begin!” Makoto called.

They struck out, and cracks resonated around the dojo once again. Quick, rhythmic, smooth and dynamic. The thrill quickly rose within him again, meeting Aki’s eyes between their strikes, diversions and parries as rhythmical as their stepping. He did not need to change his expression to demonstrate that thrill.

Mitsuhide concentrated hard, parrying her strikes, countering her attacks. He could not move as adventurously as he would have liked with Makoto watching. Their teacher was strict with the traditional forms. His eyes would probably bulge if he saw what Mitsuhide and Aki created in their own time away from watchful eyes.

Aki’s strikes were strong. Not as strong as they were, but they were improving. In a few more weeks she would probably be back to striking with the same speed, precision and power as she normally did. Her eyes were alight. She almost smiled every time they made eye contact. Her thrill only heightened his.

This bout was longer, exhilarating but without explosive urgency. It was easy to get carried away however. Mitsuhide slipped behind her guard again, this time disarming her with a twist of the wrist. He heard her inhale sharply, having to let go of her katana to save her own wrist. Mitsuhide flicked her katana up, now leaving her open.

At this point, he would usually stand down, for the battle was usually lost now for his opponent. On the contrary, Aki’s expression said anything of the like, so Mitsuhide continued on, stepping forward and swiping for her head, where she would then concede defeat and he would catch her katana that was now falling.

But Aki did not step back to avoid his strike, or even stand still to admit defeat. She ducked and twisted awkwardly beneath his swing like someone with a too flexible spine and deft footwork.

Mitsuhide’s surprise was brief. He turned his swing across back to a strike down over her head as she caught her bamboo katana. With Aki down on one knee, he had the advantage of height and therefore weight. But she raised her katana in time nevertheless to meet and block his strike with a harsh clap.

“Hold!”

They froze at Makoto’s command.

“Bow.”

Mitsuhide pulled back, lowering his bamboo blade as Aki stood. They bowed to each other, before facing Makoto and sitting down formally, blades resting on the tatami beside them. Mitsuhide took this chance to calm his breathing. His heart was beating quickly and he could feel the sweat on his back.

“That was an unexpected save, Osamu, but a samurai should never be disarmed. If you reactions had not been innovative and quick then Mitsuhide would have cut you down. Even with the save, he still has the advantage of height which therefore brings him more power,” Makoto said to her.

“Yes, sensei,” she said firmly.

“Mitsuhide, you purposely fought slower than you are capable of. There were times when Osamu’s guard could have been exploited on numerous occasions yet you did not take the opportunity. Do not expect your opponent to be so oblivious and kind in the future.”

“Yes, sensei,” Mitsuhide said, his voice strong.

“That is enough for the two of you today. You are dismissed. Bring in your cousins on your way out. Those boys need some heavy training, too busy pretending make-believe. This isn’t a game,” he muttered under his breath, stalking away. Mitsuhide held back his smile as he and Aki bowed nevertheless. Mitsuharu was eight now and Mitsutada was five. The boys spent much of their time playing and pretending they were real samurai, and when their actual training in martial arts came, they were not as enthusiastic. Makoto’s incredibly stern demeanour was probably one main reason for it.

When the teacher was out of earshot, Aki’s posture sagged and she groaned softly. Her expression distorted with the aches of training.

“The ache is worth it,” Mitsuhide told her reassuringly. “That was the best spar you’ve done since coming back to training.”

She grunted in response. Aki reached to take Mitsuhide’s practice sword to put away with her own as she stood. He took his own however, pulling it back away from her reaching hand.

“I can put this one away myself, Aki,” he said with amusement. “I am not so pompous as to make you do all of my biddings.”

She arched an eyebrow, standing with him. “A dangerous thing to say to one such as myself. I may take you up on that offer.”

“It isn’t an offer, and you did not correct me. Am I that pompous?” He toyed.

“I never agreed to the statement either,” she caught herself as they cleaned and put their bamboo katanas away.

“Well saved,” Mitsuhide breathed with a slight smirk, quoting the irony of the bout just finished. “Speaking of which, where did you learn that manoeuvrer at the end there?”

Something crossed her expression and she looked at him sheepishly. “That I’m afraid, I can’t tell you.”

Her sheepish expression for some reason delighted him. But he frowned slightly. “Did you learn it from another teacher?” If so, who? It was unexpected, and looked like something worth learning. Being disarmed was a samurai’s worst nightmare. The way of the sword was their life.

“No, no,” she said quickly. “It’s just somewhat embarrassing.”

They walked across the dojo to the exit, passing into the front room where Mitsuhide’s two cousins were _not_. Aki’s answer intrigued him, but he had to leave it alone as he wondered instead where his cousins had gone.

He could hear them playing outside. Makoto’s concerns were well-founded.

Aki laughed softly. “They sound to be having fun.” She handed Mitsuhide his haori and she swept hers across her back, looping her arms in.

“Not for much longer.” Mitsuhide said, pulling the screen open. “Attention!” He called sharply.

Mitsuharu and Mitsutada had been running about in the snow, haoris open and flaring like cloaks while waving sticks as imitations of katanas. They should have heard Mitsuhide coming, but boys being boys too engrossed in their game, they did not hear him.

The young boys gasped, dropping their sticks immediately and turned to the dojo, bowing low. “Good morning, Makoto-sensei!”

Mitsuhide folded his arms. “You are lucky I am not,” he said as he stepped down from the veranda, slipping his feet into his sandals.

Mitsuharu and Mitsutada looked up in shock. Seeing that it was their cousin and not the strict teacher who had come out, their postures relaxed into delighted grins.

“Mitsuhide-senpai! Aki-senpai!” They cheered, dashing up to them and surprised him with something akin to a mixture between a tackle and a hug.

“Oof,” he grunted.

“Can you teach us what you learned? Please?” Mitsutada, the youngest of five years pleaded excitedly.

He took their shoulders firmly yet softly, squeezing them in return. These boys were more like his younger brothers than cousins. He taught them certain tricks with punches and kicks and even with a fake dagger. A young lordling always had to be prepared for anything.

“No,” Mitsuhide said with a shake of his head. “That is much too complicated. And you boys should not use such intimate actions outside where others can see,” he murmured softly with reference to the boys’ hugs while glancing at the guards posted at gate and stairwells. They did not look fazed, used to seeing the boys play around, though he could see the faint awkward disapproval in their nervous glances. That too was well-founded. The children of clan leaders should behave as such with formal and conservative countenance, not like the children of the lower class. Mitsuhide may have looked down upon that once. But he didn’t. A child was not a child for long. So it was worth enjoying the naïve innocence while it lasted.

“But you are our cousin, you always treat us well and teach and play with us. Besides, Aki-senpai is here.” Mitsuharu said brightly, pulling away.

“But he will be your clan leader in little over a year,” Aki chided, standing a step away with arms crossed but smiling. “You should get used to standing to attention and bowing in his presence.” She leant down and whispered, “he will soon be like uncle Mitsuyasu. No expression, making everyone fall quiet with his scary eyes.”

“No!” Mitsutada argued with a horrified scowl.

“I will n–” Mitsuhide stopped himself short. He realised with a start that Aki was right. She may have said it jokingly so the boys did not take it seriously, but soon enough things will be like that. Even if he still played and taught them things in private time, anywhere outside of that, those he passed would treat him as a true Lord, and he would have to act as indifferent with dignity in return to match that station. Cool and composed dialogue, controlled expressions and posture emanating power and authority.

That was who he was born to be. It was not too far away. He always knew this, so why did it come as such a shock?

“Up now,” she said to the boys with firmness. “You don’t want to keep Makoto-sensei waiting do you? He’ll make you work even harder.”

Mitsuharu’s and Mitsutada’s smiles became small and they fell quiet with disappointment at having to leave.

“Alright,” they sighed, pulling back and this time they did bow properly with respect, before removing their sandals and stepped up onto the veranda. Mitsuhide watched them go, tucking his arms into his haori sleeves.

“A little over a year,” he whispered. “I will be seventeen in two months.” He turned, leaving.

“Time passes quickly,” Aki exhaled, falling into step beside him as he began to walk back to the castle. “But there is still another year after that.”

“Everything will change after the leadership ceremony.”

“Perhaps, but it will not be for a while yet. Many things will still be the same.” Her voice was knowing yet reassuring. The things she knew . . . she did not look agitated over the near future. She knew things that could not be explained in the same way Mitsuhide’s true abilities could never be explained. If she did not look worried, then he also should not worry. Could Mitsuhide take some solace from that?

Subconsciously, he already did. He always had done. Aki was more than his sole, personal retainer. She took a terrible gamble in the past and had sacrificed his father’s life for his own survival. She _lived_ for Mitsuhide.

He took her arm, stopping her.

“Mitsuhide?”

“There are some things that will not change,” he agreed softly. “Will you stay by my side? Will you stay as you are, the Aki I know, even after I take leadership and events start to fall in place?”

_Will you stay with me until death itself separates us?_

It was the question he truly wanted to ask, but never could. He had always taken her company for granted in the past as a child. But as he grew, he became more and more aware of how circumstances of their relationship was not as simple as it appeared.

Her eyes widened slightly. Mitsuhide could hear the quickening of her heart and the sharp inhalation, faint and quiet as it was. Mitsuhide’s request and wish was steep. It was selfish, perhaps the most selfish thing he could ever wish and ask for. But he could not stop it. He did not want Aki to go anywhere. He could not bear the thought of the still potential possibility of an unsuspecting return for her to her original time. The very notion of it was suffocating. Friends were precious. But good friends were priceless. And as Aki had been painfully teaching Chigusa over the duration of this winter, friends were the family one chose for themselves. They should not be let go of easily. If you ever found a good friend, you should hold onto them, for they were as rare as a precious jewel in the mud. They were irreplaceable. What would he do if she was suddenly gone?

Selfish. So selfish! Making her chose between him and her original family. He should not have asked. He should have been the noble he was and kept his thoughts to himself. A true Lord should never be so selfish. People like him were supposed to serve the people. There was no room for his own wishes. That was the way of kings.

Aki reached up, taking his hand from her arm. Mitsuhide did not realise his grip had tightened and he let go. But she kept his hand. Her touch was still warm from the training, comforting in the cold of the fresh snow which had fallen during the night.

She looked up, meeting his gaze with her soft smile. Her eyes were wet with the moisture of conflict. She almost looked surprised. He dreaded what she would say, cursing himself silently for asking to begin with.

But then she said one word. One word that was like the sun breaking through thick clouds which blinded the sky. One word that erased all doubt and insecurities in his heart, replacing it with a light as steady and bright as the sun itself.

“Always.”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

February; 1545

The night was dark, the moon was waxing and its white light spilled out over the deep forest mountains. It was quiet and empty here through the thickness of the woods, save for the breeze that moaned between the trees.

Mitsuhide had mixed feelings about these forests. It was a place of many things, of many pains and losses in life, and of impossibly hard decisions which were impossible not to regret. He walked them often, retracing his steps from those years ago when he was a boy on the night his father had been killed.

He thought about his father often. It was over six years since that fateful night. Not a day went by when he did not think of it – and the many ‘what ifs’ which followed. The memories were still as vivid as when it had first happened. He could smell the blood, he could feel the killing intention rolling heavily in the air. He could hear the song of metal on metal as weapons clashed.

“_Jubei . . . my beloved son. I will watch over you.”_

Mitsuhide remembered his father’s last words clearly. He missed his father so terribly much. He could never show it, but at least out here, he could let some of his control fall away to allow his heart to lament over the loss. 

“It is never advised to dwell in the past, my son,” a voice breathed from the shadows. He knew who it was. He felt her coming.

Mitsuhide schooled his expression and turned. “Haha-ue,” he murmured, bowing his head upon his mother’s approach. 

Lady Akechi glided over the snow which blanketed the roots. Barely a footprint was left behind, as if she were a ghost who had laid claim to these trees. Her pale skin seemingly glowed in the moonlight, her dark eyes glittering with age. The silks of her kimono caught the reflective shimmer of the silvery face in the night-time sky.

“I have never seen you out here before,” Mitsuhide noted.

“I have been here more than you know. I just chose to make my presence known tonight.”

Mitsuhide frowned. “How did I never notice you?”

Lady Akechi smiled faintly. “I am much, much older than you, Jubei. There is much about your mother you do not know yet.”

Mitsuhide gazed at his mother. Her features were youthful, but indeed her eyes gave away her true age, likewise in her mannerisms and presence. Despite his father being far greater in combat, there was always something about his mother which felt somewhat more powerful. Perhaps it was her controlled demeanour, her patience and her freezing temper – when shown. 

Aki did often say that a good mother and wife often had the greatest power in the household, even if it was not obvious. Mitsuhide found it an odd concept. But seeing his mother now made him think otherwise. 

The walked together, slowly, in silence.

“Do you miss him?” Mitsuhide finally asked. He never saw his mother cave in to emotion. She was as stoic as they came. But he did always wonder. Did his mother grieve for her husband?

“Always,” she said softly. 

Mitsuhide tucked his hands within the sleeves of his haori. “Why did you never tell me, nor show me?”

“For the same reason you learned to control your emotions, Jubei. To stay strong and stable for those around us. Life never stands still. Time continues, in its own mysterious ways. The castle must still be run. The town must be governed. The province must still be protected. Open grief can be our worst enemy, for that is when we are most vulnerable, and is when our enemies will strike. But, that does not mean we cannot mourn or honour those we have lost. We just do it privately – or with our most trusted company.”

It was a strange image, to envision his mother mourning or missing his father in silence. She always seemed indestructible, as unwavering as the mountain against the howl of a typhoon. She did not bow. 

Or maybe she did, when the wind stopped howling. He knew his mother and father had been very old. He could not even begin to imagine the void left behind in her heart. 

But, they were strong. In mind, body and spirit. They were focused. They knew what had to be done to maintain balance and order. 

However, that did not mean a small gesture of kindness was unnecessary. 

Mitsuhide stopped and turned to face his mother. He took her hands in his. It was extremely intimate, but to him, this was what he felt his mother needed. And in truth, he also needed it, for they both lost what had been most important to them all those years ago. 

“I am here,” he said. His tone was gentle, but there was strength in his voice. And he hoped his mother could sense that.

Lady Akechi met his gaze, and a softness graced her expression. She grasped his hands with a strong grip. “I know. You are just like him.”

Mitsuhide snorted softly. “It is every son’s goal to be as great – if not greater – than his father. I have a long way to go yet. As for character, even Mitsuharu bares stronger resemblance to Chichi-ue than I.”

“Perhaps,” Lady Akechi agreed thoughtfully. “Mitsukuni was often playful in character. In this regard, you take after me. But, you do become more open around Osamu.”

The mention of Aki sent a small jolt of self-consciousness through him. It was bizarre. How could he feel that self-conscious suddenly over her mentioning? He even felt his neck flush with heat despite the cold air. 

“You tease me, Haha-ue,” he said, clearing his throat. 

A knowing smile touched Lady Akechi’s lips, but she said nothing. Instead, she said, “Let us take a walk together. The snow is beautiful this night.”

The pair continued to walk. The crunch of their feet against the snow was muffled, the sound having been absorbed by the snow itself. It was cold, but it was a comfortable cold. Sometimes it was difficult to notice the little things, given their bodies were so strong and resilient. But bitter cold, harsh winds, freezing rain, and scorching sun they could feel. It was a reminder of the world around them, a reminder that despite their incredible strength and immortality, none were greater than the forces of nature. 

“There is something I wish to talk to you about,” Lady Akechi said, scattering Mitushide’s thoughts about nature. 

Mitsuhide looked at her expectantly. 

“You are aware of the Hayato clan and their motives for having tried to assassinate you nearly seven years ago.”

Mitsuhide’s mood chilled to ice. “I know, Haha-ue,” he said coolly. “I am to be the Heir of our race. The next Emperor of the Oni. The Hayato have other intentions.”

He never liked saying it. He had known of his birthright for as long as he could remember. He knew of the power which came with it, both literally and figuratively. But even that could not save his father. 

“It has been many centuries since a ruler sat on the throne of our race. For many generations it has always been the bloodline of the Minamoto who have ruled, and we are of that bloodline. And for the most part, that has been widely accepted. However, there are always rogue factions, factions who believe a different blood should rule and guide by the Superiors.”

“The Hayato,” Mitsuhide murmured with bitter venom. 

“The Hayato are one of the clans who have always been loyal to the Taira. After the defeat of the Taira at the naval battle of Dan-nou-ura, the Hayato and similar factions went in to hiding. They have been plotting a return of the Taira blood to the throne for some time now.”

Mitsuhide’s eyes narrowed. “The only direct descendants of the Taira are now the Oda. They have been problematic, but not as much as the Imagawa in Suruga province.”

“Indeed, Imagawa Yoshimoto’s ambitions know no bounds, however, there have been whispers from Izumo and Yomi that hidden factions have taken an interest in the young son of Oda Nobuhide.”

“Oda Nobunaga? He is just a boy.”

“As were you, when powers started to come looking.”

Mitsuhide could not argue against that. But what would a young boy from another clan have to do in the mythical world of demons and gods?

“I advise caution, Jubei. There are powers at work which even we do not understand. Your father and I spent many an evening discussing and investigating. You are the Heir. That has never changed, nor will it ever. But old enemies are stirring and it appears they have chosen the son of Oda Nobuhide to challenge you for the throne in the future.”

“What of the Superiors in Takamagahara, the Heavenly Plain?”

“They sent us Osamu, and brought her to you.”

Mitsuhide took a deep breath and straightened, almost stretching the subconscious stress from his limbs as they discussed otherworldly politics. 

“The factions between the Oda and us may appear clear, being a traditional confrontation for the right to rule. However, Osamu’s role in all of this is still unclear. Takamagahara have always vouched for peace. Yet I fear great battles lie ahead of us, of you.”

Mitsuhide was quiet for a moment. Indeed it had been a great mystery as to why someone from another world had been brought to them. Her knowledge was impeccable, and she seemed to have an agenda of her own, as defined through the civil war between the Toki and the Saito. She had them loose on purpose. But she was not an evil woman. Mitsuhide knew that, deep within his heart. Her loyalty, her friendship, was absolute. 

He felt a peace settle over him and found himself smiling. “Aki is with us. Regardless of what speculations we may have, I believe she was sent here to guide us.”

* * * * *

Mana, wandered along the shore, stopping after every two steps with her nose glued to the ground as she searched for some tufts of grass to pull up and eat. The grass was wan here, still thin from the winter’s cold that had smothered them in snow. The snow was nearly gone now. Spring would start arriving at the end of this month for the Honshuu region, but the blossoms would not open until late next month. Unlike Okinawa, this part of Japan was not blessed with that tropical weather.

One would think I could have visited the south by now. But, I had yet to do so. Time was just as scarce here as it was during my own time, not to mention travel was not exactly easy. It took hours to get anywhere, and generally a day just to get to the next town.

I stood by the lake, the lake which had changed my life forever. The waters were still, save for the ripples caused by the wind and the few birds that swam around across its crystal surface. The ice had melted a week ago.

The surface appeared white and grey, the same colours as the sky it reflected that was overcast by cloud. That same wind blew through my tied hair and ruffled the ripples of my hakama trousers. My arms were buried within my sleeves. A scarf that Lady Akechi had given me was wrapped around my neck, protecting it from the bitterness of the cold while my breath misted.

Standing where I was, on the shores, I listened to sigh of the air that gently clacked the bare branches of the nearby trees together. Leaves from the autumn fall rustled along surfaces that were not too damp to stick to them. Birds called in the distance. A crane stood in the shallows of the other side. Stark, tall and graceful. They said that the crane was Japan’s national bird, a bird that presented immortality and longevity, especially in the north – Hokkaido.

Mana’s heavy steps clopped through the undergrowth, a gentle thump and muffled clap while she snorted through bushes and leaves, trying to find something worthwhile to eat.

The air was cold through the folds of my clothes. But I embraced it. The wind was light, whispering secrets that I could not hear. It was the only voice I listened to here where there were no other people. Here, I was alone to my thoughts and ponderings. Here, I strained to listen, strained to see through the water’s mirror for something. A sign. Anything.

Many things worried me very suddenly. One such worry was my unexpected vow and commitment to stay here in Sengoku Japan with Mitsuhide. I had tossed and turned over that thought over the years, never able to make a complete decision. Sometimes I swayed one way more than the other, for situations heavily influenced emotions and feelings and therefore attitudes. But I had never been able to make a true decision in my heart.

There had been times – more than I could count – where I imagined going back home to my family and life of modern technology, where I was more familiar with everything around me and it was easier to take things for granted. But as I imagined that scenario, the void in my heart remained where Mitsuhide would be. I ended up imagining what his life would be like without me. Would he remember me? Would he forget me?

I never would, and imagining a life without him brought a tightness to my chest I had never experienced previously.

But then, imagining spending the rest of my life here in sixteenth century Japan brought about the same emotions. I was happy to be with Mitsuhide, with the younger cousins Mitsutada, Mitsuharu, even Nou-hime. And there were my friends, Chiyo, Ichirou and Taka. It was hard to imagine living without them, people who had become my family. I loved them all.

But even they could not fill the void in my heart that was meant to be taken by my true parents and sister. I could never choose over my family, that is what I thought, and yet it seemed that I had. I chose Mitsuhide.

Why? Why was I finding it so hard to imagine or even think about leaving him?

_I promised to serve him, to protect him, and to be his friend,_ I thought quietly. _I made a promise to Mitsukuni that I would guide his son through his life._

Did that mean I would even change the events of history for him? I . . . didn’t know. It was such a delicate matter. The past was a tricky thing. Time was a tricky thing.

Mitsuhide was almost seventeen, and already something had not gone according to history. Chigusa was with us, but there had been no official announcement of any engagement between the two. Mitsuhide’s approach to her was formal as always. There seemed little love between the two cousins. It seemed unlikely that the confession which was rumoured to have occurred between her and Mitsuhide was ever going to happen.

Then again, Chigusa was a difficult young woman to read. She thought deeply and much of her thoughts remained silent. She was more tolerable now, and she was not as impossible to read as she was before, but still, it was a challenge. She demonstrated no obvious admiration or fancy towards Mitsuhide.

Likewise with Hiroko. She was supposed to be engaged to Mitsuhide as well around this time and married next year if my memory was still correct. But Mitsuhide had not spoken once of her this winter except for the times that _I_ mentioned her and her father. What would happen if they did not marry? So much would change if they did not!

For starters, Tama would never be born. She would never be converted into a Christian and renamed Gracia, nor be the grandmother of Empress Shokun. What would happen to Japan’s imperial line _then_?

_Maybe there will be a different imperial family, in that case, one which did not agree to the sudden conquest of Asia during World War II. _

That was certainly a pleasing thought. People would not hate Japan so much then. But what would happen in place of that?

There were too many variables. It was impossible to know what would and would not happen. So many possibilities.

I sighed and brought my gaze up from the lake’s surface.

“Where are the Superiors?” I breathed. “Where are the three who brought me here?”

The branches continued to clack and the birds continued to sing fleetingly, as bleak as the sky itself.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said softly to the lake. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What is the purpose in bringing me here if I have no idea as to what that purpose is? Do you want me to make sure I stick to history? Or do you want me to change it?”

The wind continued to blow, the leaves whispered like the secret gossiping of children. Mana snorted behind me.

My eyes closed and my shoulders fell.

Nothing. Like so many times before.

I turned away from the lake to look at Mana. She was chewing on something and looked up at me with non-judgemental eyes. I smiled and stepped over to her.

“I hope you’re not chewing on anything bad for you,” I murmured to her, patting her neck. “Being sick in the winter is the last thing we want.”

She paid little attention to my words. I could almost imagine her thinking that she would ignore my advice on being careful with food anyhow. If she wanted to eat, then she would find something to eat.

With a soft chuckle to myself, I took her reins and walked her and myself back from the lake. Mana was a lovely horse and docile in nature, but with a curiosity that was sometimes accompanied by an innocent stubbornness which Mana probably looked on with obliviousness. She was certainly not as wacky and as crazy as the animals that had belonged to me in the past. The rabbits my sister and I shared were classics, especially the last one.

“Toff, you idiot,” I whispered under my breath, just feeling those familiar words run back over my tongue again. That last rabbit had such a character, and therefore the most commons words out of my mouth in the end were exactly those, aside from curses from when he peed on me to mark his territory, namely me again. A lovely rabbit though, despite his idiocy. Never a mean rabbit. Such character.

I walked for a while with Mana, up paths through trees. The shadows were lengthening as the evening quickly approached. It had been a while since I had done this. Something else always called for my attention instead which would either keep me castle-bound or somewhere in the town with some other sort of business.

Even today had been difficult. Mitsuhide spent all night out and therefore spent the majority of the morning asleep. Consequently I did much of his work today. But I did not mind. Not as much anyway. It was easier to feel bad for someone when that someone was clearly incapable of doing something for themselves at the time.

I had finished later than I expected and hoped, which naturally had me annoyed. Every minute past a schedule or plan was time wasted. Nevertheless, I felt better now, having had my solitary time by the lake to think. It helped in many ways, but also made things more complicated than what they already were. Any conclusions I reached was met by more questions and contradictions.

Why did simple ideas have to become so complex?

On smoother and wider roads, I mounted Mana and made my way back to the castle through the town where I waved to people and greeted them and vice versa. It was the best way to put my mind back into the right frame and arrive at the castle with the usual light-heartedness the people were used to seeing me with. Arriving with doom and gloom hanging over my head brought unnecessary attention.

Back on the castle grounds, I dismounted and led Mana to the stables. Riku, Mitsuhide’s horse looked up in response to his sister’s clopping feet and the stallion knickered.

With Mana in her pen, I went over to Riku who was chewing on some hay. He bumped my head within his own in welcome as I reached to pat his neck.

“I’m guessing Mitsuhide-sama didn’t get to take you out for a run today,” I muttered.

Riku snorted.

I scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? Mitsuhide-sama is the best master you’ll ever have, if you ever have another, which hopefully you won’t.” Seeing that Riku’s hay was running low, I rummaged around the stables for another and tied it up for the bored-looking horse. “Shame, today was a good day for a stroll. The snow is all gone now. But Mitsuhide-sama was still in bed, if no one has told you.”

It was nice, talking to animals. The same went for plants to some degree, though animals were better as there was some sort of response and something to look at – the eyes, for a source of intelligence. Animals also didn’t talk back, which made ranting easier to some extent for no one challenged your views then. Some had more patience, though some did not. It didn’t hurt as much when an animal turned its back though, unlike when talking to a human – or Oni in my case.

It was hard to remember I lived in a castle of Oni, even more so that my Lord, adoptive brother, and best friend was supposedly one of the most powerful of them all.

I patted Riku and then Mana goodnight and headed back into the castle where its warmth enveloped me.

Since the night that Mitsukuni died, Mitsuhide had never revealed that silvery side of his Oni form again. Everything he did was in the limits as humans would expect of an expert swordsman. In fact, Mitsuhide rarely used his true strength. Even if he did, it was minor and well-concealed. I was in no hurry to see that frightening form again, for it reminded me just how powerless I was against such strength and agility. I had only survived that fateful night out of sheer luck. Dreams and future sight were good for some things, it seemed.

Once inside, I made my way towards the kitchen to help out. I greeted them with smiles and enthusiasm, which they returned with equivalent vigor. Of course they had already started. But an extra helping hand was always welcome. I still remember when they had been surprised by my desire to help, especially after my adoption. A Lady helping in the kitchens? It was unheard of. But it did not take them long to come around to the idea of my assistance, and it was welcome to them.

Likewise, their willingness to accept help was a blessing to me as well. It was a distraction from politics, grounding against being carried off by rank and power, as well as a little reminder of my own home and helping my mother in the kitchen.

Before long, the food and sides and garnishes were arrayed fancifully in their aesthetic bowls across serving trays, and a new array of servants stood in line waiting to take the trays to the serving hall.

The chef gave me leave, and so I quickly dashed back to my quarters to change. It was unsightly to be smelling of cooking foods and oils when dining with the Lords and Ladies.

I dashed around the corner of the pavilion and almost ran straight into Mitsuhide and barely stifled the yelp of surprise, still half distracted by thinking of food and cooking. The yelp may have stayed silent through good training, but the surprise on my face I was sure was clear as day.

Mitsuhide being Mitsuhide, had heard my hasty approach and already caught my shoulders and steered me to the side with a grace which confused my brain, as it was still expecting the bump of a collision.

“My apologies, Mitsuhide-sama,” I said sheepishly. “Boy I’m glad you’ve got good hearing.”

An amused smile humoured his face.

“Also, I’m glad you’re awake now. There’s something I want to ask you about regarding the administrative forms for the rice reserves. I’m not too sure if I’ve done it right. Can I speak to you after about it?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get changed quickly.” I bowed hastily, before ducking past him and hurried to my quarters.

* * * * *

I happened to be the last one into the dining hall, but luckily I was not late. I had another masculine attire on, similar to my previous one, except I just wore a fancier haori over the top of pale beige and embroidered with ducks in flight. Wearing a kimono would require the assistance of the maids, which were already busy serving the trays of food. The smell made my mouth water, but years of practice and etiquette tempered my vigour.

As I ate, I watched everyone else every now and then. The Lords and Ladies chatted amongst each other, and likewise as did I. They complemented me on my cooking which was gradually improving. I tried to add my own flair here and there, but I was severely lacking in ingredients, namely Chinese peppercorns and chillies. Japanese food was no doubt absolutely wonderful, extremely healthy and astoundingly aesthetic to the eyes.

But it was bland. There were no chillies nor spices, nor herbs.

I stared down at my small bowl of miso soup, missing my mother’s cooking. It was an old ache, but an ache nonetheless.

However, I did start to wonder something else. Of course I knew that there was a great deal of trade between Japan and Korea and China. Despite my years here now, I had yet to actually encounter a trader from China in person. Perhaps they were more common in Inabayama? I would have to ask Mitsuhide about it one day.

The silks, teas and jade from China were still widely discussed and treated as treasures worth hefty prices. But word now was more focused on the firearms brought over by shipwrecked Portuguese. It my memory served me correctly, it had happened in 1542. The firearms were becoming more popular now and I knew Mitsuhide was interested in getting his hands on one.

My thoughts travelled a lot during the meal, occasionally brought back by Mitsuhisa or Lady Akechi. Chigusa was unusually quiet. She was quiet always, but tonight she seemed somewhat awkward, as best as I could tell. She refused to look at Mitsuhide nor at myself. She even looked to be quite stiff. Her usual grace was marred by a slight shaking of her hands.

I frowned slightly. Was she alright? It was very unlike her. I thought about asking, but held my tongue to save her the embarrassment. If one was feeling unwell then they would usually excuse themselves. Better that than have someone else notice, was what I found to their behaviour. It did not just seem to be a Japanese thing either. In general people of the medieval ages were far more conservative in nature.

I did wonder if maybe it had something to do with Mitsuhide? They were both sat opposite each other and Chigusa was careful to keep her eyes downcast. There was no way she would suddenly show fear. She did not seem to fear anything. Her attitude reminded me of a Spanish bull.

Maybe it was shyness instead? She _was_ supposed to start showing some form of fancy towards her cousin, despite her stoic persona. Perhaps they had been talking between each other and she had finally come to realise she liked him?

I glanced at Mitsuhide. He seemed blissfully unaware as he was deep in conversation with his uncle Mitsuyasu beside him. Therefore I turned by gaze back to Chigusa, only to catch her watching me. When our eyes met, she quickly looked back down again, but a flush blossomed her cheeks.

It reminded me of Hiroko’s first meeting with me as well when she had mistaken me for being a man.

I tilted my head to the side in puzzlement, pondering. Was I doing something odd to make them look at me like I was an alien?

Then again, in actuality, I probably was an alien, considering my background and era. I shrugged and chuckled softly to myself.

“What is so amusing?” Mitsunobu asked from my other side.

“Just some stray thoughts, and the irony of them,” I said with humour.

* * * * *

After the trays had been cleared away, everyone went to do their own things. The Lady Akechi returned to her quarters, the Lords including Mitsunobu, stayed behind to drink. Chigusa had excused herself earlier, Mitsuhide declined his uncles’ invitations to join them for a drink and went to take a bath, and I headed back to my rooms to collect the box of documents I had been working on.

I also needed a bath, especially to wash the smell of cooking from my hair, but I would do that later. As I walked, I wondered if Chigusa was alright. Over this winter I felt like I had certainly come to know her. I was still wary. First impressions always stick and the one I had of her was not a good one. Nevertheless, I had come to deduce she was simply ignorant and needed someone to show her there was a world beyond her own interests. She seemed to have improved in her prejudice. Insisting I listen to her play the shamisen was perhaps the greatest example of her ability to open up.

Therefore it was perhaps because of my initial impression of her and her behaviour, that it then made this evening’s behaviour very odd.

As I walked down the veranda, one of the slides was open with candle light spilling out over the garden. I glanced in as I passed. It was empty, and I expected as much. But I recognised Chigusa’s shamisen at the far end, lying dangerously close to the lamp and brazier, which was open. It was not too difficult to imagine Chigusa not realising the lamp was supposed to be shut.

Therefore with a sigh, I stepped into the room to move the lamp and the brazier away. Last thing anyone needed was a beautiful instrument setting on fire and perhaps even starting a fire throughout the castle.

The clack of the screen shutting behind me snapped me out of my casual mentality instantly and I spun around, half expecting someone to attack me from behind after trapping me in the room.

However, it was no assassin standing by the closed screen. In fact, it was Chigusa.

“Chigusa-hime.” I blinked in surprise, but I did not completely step out of the stance I automatically fell in to. “I hope you are well. You did not return to your rooms?”

She shook her head, her hands tightly clasped. There was a strange tension to the air and I was not sure how to interpret it. It was impossible she would attack me. Maybe it was something else. She was behaving strangely earlier after all.

“Are you well, Chigusa-hime?” I asked cautiously. “You did not seem your usual self this evening at dinner.”

“I . . .” She took a few steps closer. I took a step back, but tried to turn it into looking nonchalant as I knelt down to try and pick up the shamisen. I had to glance down to ensure I didn’t stick my hand onto the burning coals of the brazier, but that glance down turned out to be a mistake, as Chigusa took the opportunity to disappear and reappear right in front of me. It caught me off guard and I recoiled back onto my elbow. When I looked up, she was right there, on all fours, over me with flushed cheeks again.

There was a moment of silence.

“I – I like you!” She blurted out.

The initial danger I felt, vaporised like a puff of smoke. Her words rang in the air, and I stared at her, stunned.

_That’s impossible, _ I thought stupidly.  _Surely I misheard her._

“I . . . I hate the fact that you are not of noble blood, like us. And I hate that you treat everyone around you as if you yourself are not a Lord and Lady. But – but it’s your disappointment which hurts the most. I . . . I want you to look at me, and only me. I feel different when I am in your presence. It feels tight, in my chest, like I can’t breathe. I want you to feel the same way, about me.”

I continued to stare at her, and it took a few seconds for me to realise I was also slightly gaping, so I smacked my lips shut. It was my turn to feel my heart thunder in my chest as I finally understood what must have happened. 

In history, it was supposed to have been Mitsuhide who got pushed into the room by Chigusa and received her confession. But in this reality, it had not been Mitsuhide at all. He was somewhere in the bathhouse taking a bath. 

It was me who got cornered into a room and confessed to. 

Why me?!

But then, I had to think of it from Chigusa’s perspective. I was ten years her senior, tall and able to look like both a man and a woman. Most of my interactions with her had been as a man. It was as a man I had scolded her, being possibly the first one ever to do so. I was also the only one aside from her father – ironically enough – who spent time with her over the winter listening to her play and therefore talk to her like a normal human being, rather than as a princess. 

I kicked myself tenfold. I should have been more careful, dressed up more like a woman. Chiyo had been the same. But I just never thought anyone could fall for me. Why would they? 

Chigusa trembled, and I forced the babble of my thoughts to quieten. Before me was an adolescent who believed she was possibly in love. And against all her training and beliefs and pride in herself, she had swallowed all of that to confess. Right now, she was vulnerable. Her guard was down. Indeed she had come a long way from the arrogant ice princess I had first met at the beginning of winter. 

I exhaled softly, releasing the tension from my body as I wondered how on earth I was going to fix this. I was still stunned, flattered even, and the heat in my own cheeks was testimony to that. But I had no such feelings I could return. 

Taking Chigusa’s shoulders, I gently pushed her back and sat in front of her properly, without half lying on my backside. I took one of her hands in mine and sighed. She did not pull back.

“Chigusa-hime,” I said gently and carefully. “I am honestly very surprised, and honoured, by your confession. But, I am sorry, I cannot return those feelings.”

She looked like she had been stung upon the last sentence and she withdrew her hand. 

“But look at me,” I said, reaching out anyway, but this time cupped her face instead to force her gaze to return. “You have changed a lot since the time I first met you. You have become more thoughtful, more open, and those are such precious skills and traits to have.”

She blinked, her eyes moist with tears. 

“Unfortunately, as great of a gift you are, I am not the one who is meant to receive and keep you. However, there will be someone out there who is meant for you. Fate determines one partner to the soul for eternity. Some come sooner than others, and some came later than others. But we are all promised that one special person. And you will know it in here,” I motioned over her heart, “when you meet that person.”

Chigusa slumped back and I could tell she was desperately trying to hold her tears back. I reached out to her and wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened in my arms and I smiled as I rubbed her back.

“Where I come from,” I said softly, “we embrace each other when someone is upset. It shows our love through friendship and family, to console them and to let them know that despite things not going how we want them to, there is still love and care around us.”

I felt her tentatively relax in my arms, then felt her shoulders droop as she sighed, and heard her sniffle, only once. But it was enough. 

“Do you promise?” I heard her whisper.

“Promise what?”

She pulled back, carefully wiping away a few stray tears from beneath her eyes. “Do you promise there is someone out there for me? I can’t imagine encountering anyone as honourable as you have been.”

“My dear Chigusa-hime,” I said lightly, pulling out a handkerchief for her to use. “Of course there is someone out there for you. You will just have to be patient. All good things come to those who wait.”


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Mitsuhide sat in his rooms, going through a mix of older documents and new ones, planning how to structure his day for tomorrow. He read as he waited for Aki. She was late, which was unusual for her and he would be worried if that were the case.

However, he could hear, and her lateness was no longer a surprise.

Well . . . it was a surprise. Not the fact that she was late, but because of what happened to make her late. By the time she came to his rooms and was about to knock on his screen, he heard Aki pause and then curse to herself in her mother-tongue and say something else. His English was not great, but he caught the words ‘forgot’ and ‘papers’, followed by an annoyed sigh and the hasty footsteps of her going back the way she came to obviously collect said forgotten papers.

It was partly amusing. He always found Aki’s emotions to be entertaining. She wore them a bit more compared to those around him, and he liked see how she thought because of it. Aki was flustered at the moment, that much was clear. Though simultaneously, it puzzled him. He had no experience in romance, and likewise neither did Aki.

It was just a confession of the heart however, just words stating feelings which would probably pass in time. It was even more baffling to hear how flustered Chigusa had become. The cousin he had always known for being emotionless and as cold as ice, shed her tears and emotions as easily as a little girl who fell and scraped her knee on the ground.

Just what was the household coming to?

If he thought about it, this winter had certainly been far more eventful than previous winters. His cousin and uncle had come to stay with them for the season, Taka almost died in the river, Aki fell sick for the first and Chigusa proclaimed her love to another living being.

Mitsuhide tried to imagine something similar happening to him. He had seen other girls and young women show fancy towards him. When he made his way through the town and villages, they often approached with blushes in their cheeks and holding out flowers for him to take.

It was charming, and Mitsuhide would not turn it down. There was something about it which was appealing and reassured him of his confidence in his appearance and mannerism. Likewise, marriage for the most part was functional, to establish alliances between families. If love was also present, then it was an additional advantage. But it was not necessary.

He wondered if he could feel the same fancy towards someone else.

His thoughts were interrupted as Aki approached his room. Before she could knock, Mitsuhide opened the screen. She blinked in surprise.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said sheepishly from over the box she carried. “I . . . um –”

“Not to worry. Come in and take a seat.”

Aki walked passed him but gave him an odd glance. “You’re not going to ask?” She sounded tense, as if expecting his repercussion.

Silly woman. Why did she think he would be displeased?

Instead, he just tapped his ear once as he slid the screen shut. “I can hear everything, Aki. And it is fine. What happens between you and the relationships around you is your business.”

Aki cocked her head to the side as she sat down and placed the box in front of her. She then shrugged and said, “Fair enough. Just as well.”

Mitsuhide poured them both some tea as she brought out the documents. She took a deep breath, then let it out, and a lot of the tension within her posture came out with it. She even shook her head slightly, as if thinking something to herself.

“Alright, well, let’s get down to business. Ah, thank you,” she said as he handed her a cup of steaming tea. Aki took a sip before she began to go through the documents with him. She explained what she had done, then went over the regions she had left out due to being uncertain.

As she spoke, he found himself watching her while she scanned the documents and pointed at this or that.

Ichirou had said before that attraction was liking someone’s appearance. If you liked how someone looked, then you were attracted to them and wanted to get to know them.

There were many women Mitsuhide found beautiful, likewise there were many men whom he also found handsome. But in that regard it was just an appreciation of their looks. He felt no urge to want to be with them or to have them with him.

Chigusa was perhaps one of the most beautiful women he knew or had seen. But that was all there was to it. He felt no desire to be with her.

However, Aki had said before that attraction was not just about physical appearance, but what was unseen and within the soul itself. It was about how they acted, their mannerisms and character which appealed to the individual. Friendship was a good example she used, as she described them as people they loved because they enjoyed their company.

And romantic love was supposed to be even stronger than friendship. It was about liking, or loving the person and their heart and mind, and the desire to physically bond with them and no one else.

Aki had certainly treated Chigusa differently to how everyone else did. Likewise Aki’s behaviour and treatment of Mitsuhide himself since her arrival eight years ago had always been different to everyone else who interacted with him.

Mitsuhide enjoyed Aki’s company, there was no denying that. So what was different between his and Chigusa’s love for Aki?

Mitsuhide wondered. Aki was tall for a human woman, and dressed as a man often, therefore naturally it made sense for other women to be attracted towards her appearance. She was a skilled swordswoman and even her voice was lower than average. She had an open personality which most people just seemed to enjoy be drawn towards.

But as a woman, Aki was also attractive. On the times she dressed up properly in a full kimono, with hair decorated and make-up painted, she made even Mitsuhide look twice. It was a reminder that Aki was actually a woman and capable of looking the part as well.

Thinking about it now made Mitsuhide’s heart skip a beat. Did he love Aki in a romantic way?

The question scattered his thoughts unexpectedly and he took a sip of his tea to try and distract himself from himself. But then he realised he hadn’t been listening to what Aki was saying either. He shut his eyes briefly, kicking himself mentally.

Mitsuhide had to hold up a hand. “I’m terribly sorry, Aki. What was the last thing you said? My mind was elsewhere.”

Aki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Even _you_ can have your thoughts wander when they shouldn’t. I’m glad I’m not the only one,” she chuckled, before continuing. “I was just saying I am not entirely clear on how the rice reserves are calculated and distributed depending on the farmers’ contributions and harvest of the year. Obviously the reserves are calculated differently from usual distributions as the reserves are only opened when normal stocks run out. So what sort of ratio am I supposed to divide it with and to what sort of household based on their income or contributions?”

_Most people, especially men, would not like to be around a woman with a head which is switched on and capable of numbers. Most will be terrified of it. But some will value it very highly, like me. I wonder if others would ever notice?_

He then imagined Aki having this same discussion with another man. 

An unexpected wave of jealousy washed over him and tightened his chest which shocked and baffled him. Was that why he felt a strange sense of relief when she rejected Chigusa?

Mitsuhide answered her question as a way to distract himself. It seemed to help, and he avoided thinking along similar lines for the rest of the night as he got absorbed into talking about administration. 

If Aki was aware of how flustered he now was, she made no sign of it. 

Xxxxx

The last of the snows melted a few days later and the town and the province opened up. It was time for Yamagishi Mitsunobu and Chigusa to return back to their manor, and so the majority of us were stood outside to bid them farewell. 

Today, I was in a full kimono, which was just as well because it was still very cold and the multiple layers kept me warm. Lady Akechi was bidding farewell to her brother and niece with Mitsuhisa and Mitsuhide. Mitsuyasu hung back with me as we watched on, having made our official farewells in the gathering hall. 

“It appears that our extended family have come to like you quite a lot,” Mitsuyasu rumbled in his low voice. 

I bit back my original retort, which was something along the lines of how difficult it was. Instead, I said, “Your family are my family. I hope they have a safe journey back. Do they have enough supplies for the journey?”

I was watching the Yamagishi servants loads the carts. There certainly seemed to be a great many supplies going back with them. 

“They do,” Mitsuyasu said.

I watched the servants pack and my eyes wondered over to the maid which attended Chigusa. The maid had just helped Chigusa up onto the back of her horse using a box as a stepping block. I was fairly sure Chigusa didn’t need it, but appearances had to be kept up, and Chigusa played the part of a delicate and weak Lady to perfection. 

Mitsuhide was speaking to her, though I could not hear what was being said over the noise. The maid however broke into the interaction briefly and Chigusa handed a small package to her. The maid then bowed, and came over in the direction of Mitsuyasu and I. I glanced up at Chigusa, who was looking at me, before pulling her gaze quickly back to Mitsuhide and carried on with whatever they were speaking about. 

It did not take me long to realise the maid was heading for me, and when she arrived, she bowed low.

“Lady Akechi Osamu,” she said. Her voice was polite and sweet upon first impression. But I could recognise the confidence. “My Lady Chigusa-hime wishes to give you a gift before she departs, and hopes that you will treat it as well as the gift you have given her.”

_Gift? What gift? I haven’t given her anything._

The maid held out small package. It was something thin and long, wrapped in a silken handkerchief of pale pink, embroidered with wild geese and clouds. 

I took the thin bundle, and the maid retreated back to her mistress. I opened it carefully, but judging from what I could feel through the silk, I had an inkling as to what it was. And indeed, it was what I expected. A hair pin. But it was one of hers. Beautifully long and thin twinned blades of ivory, entwined with silver and decorated at the end with a collection of pale mother-of-pearl, constructed like a bunch of white blossoms, with a few petals dangling off the edge on a delicate chain. 

“A fine gift,” Mitsuyasu murmured from beside me. 

I was stunned, but smiled. “A fine gift indeed,” I agreed softly. 

Chigusa had indeed come a long way from the girl I had first met when the snows settled. People never changed, but they did grow. And Chigusa had grown plenty, like a plant finally breaking through the soil to meet the sunshine of spring. I knew what she meant now by a gift I had given her. It was not something physical, but something of the mind. 

The ability to care. 

I looked up in Chigusa’s direction. She looked at me, and she bowed her head. It was a bow of thanks and respect, and therefore I returned the exact same thing and smiled at her. Her eyes widened and she blinked multiple times, before quickly pulling her gaze away with a pinkness tinting her pale cheeks. Chigusa did not look at me again, but I did see the faintest signs of a smile on her lips.

Despite the drama of the winter gone, I felt glad she and I could finally be on the same page. We would probably even make rather good friends after giving her enough time to move on from her ‘first love’, as it were. 

Despite that, I was also glad they were leaving. It was always nice to have guests, but not for too long. It was exhausting and quite draining. I could understand now why my mother never liked having guests around much. For dinners were stressful enough, let alone having them stay overnight as well, even if they were family. 

Mitsuhide, Lady Akechi and Mitsuhisa pulled away and waved at the party as they left through the gates. 

“Well!” Mitsuhisa exclaimed as the carts rolled out and the horses clopped. “That was an eventful winter, don’t you think, Aki?”

I glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at and asking me?”

Mitsuhisa batted his eyelashes. “Must you ask something so obvious, my dear niece?”

Mitsuhide chuckled and I rolled my eyes, but found myself smiling anyway, even if I did not say anything. 

“Now, Mitsutada and Mitsuharu. You boys need to – wait, where are they?” Mitsuhisa turned about himself to search for his and Mitsuyasu’s sons.

“They’re hiding, behind the dojo,” Mitsuyasu said flatly. 

Mitsuhisa bristled. “What? Why didn’t you make them stand here and bid farewell? That makes us look so bad in front of the Yamagishi!”

“You are not usually one for caring about such images, brother-in-law,” Lady Akechi chimed. 

“They are your family, dear sister,” Mitsuhisa said, clearing his throat. “Of course I want to show my respects. It seems our young boys however don’t feel the same way. Now where are they? Mitsuyasu, come with me will you? We need to discipline both of them.”

Mitsuyasu said nothing, but followed his younger brother while he continued to babble. Lady Akechi turned back to the castle with two of her attendants. 

Mitsuhide also turned. “Time to get back to work. Would you care to join me?”

Paperwork. It was always so boring. But having had practice with it from my own previous education with writing essays and assignments, it was also somewhat familiar. And after the talks I had with Mitsuhide to seek some guidance on it, it was beginning to make sense. 

I never used to enjoy studying with others. Mainly because somehow studying with others always made me feel stupid because my classmates seemed so far ahead. It had never been the case considering I did as well, if not better than most of them anyway. I just had a different way of thinking which made sense only to me, hence the preferred mode of studying alone. 

However, with Mitsuhide, I enjoyed it. Despite the boredom and confusion of government documents, Mitsuhide had a way of making it run smoothly and coherently. Especially as my hirigana was not as proficient as his or the other Lords and Ladies. Kanji was fine since they were Chinese characters and I could read those fluently because the meanings were the same. Only difference was the pronunciation. 

Therefore I nodded, and followed Mitsuhide back into the castle, while tucking away the hairpin within my sleeves. While I could not accept Chigusa’s feelings, I could accept her hairpin, and with great care I would look after it.

Xxxxx

It was early April, and the weather was beginning to warm to a pleasant temperature. Mitsuhide and Aki had gone down into the town to have lunch with Ichirou and Chiyo. Although Mitsuhide could never openly admit it, he had been looking forward to seeing his friend again and having a chat. He had not seen Ichirou since the incident concerning Taka’s near drowning. Everyone was fine now and the tension between much of the town’s folk and the Yamagishi had smoothed over. Taka’s forgiving nature seemed to be the key, of which Mitsuhide was grateful. 

Life seemed to return to normal, and Mitsuhide and Aki did some extra over-time to free up today for their meeting with Ichirou and Chiyo. They sat in one of their local restaurants, Mitsuhide and Ichirou in one small alcove, and Aki and Chiyo in the neighbouring alcove. It allowed them to be close, but with privacy to have their own conversations. Aki seemed to miss normal girl's talk, hence being sat with Chiyo, and Mitsuhide also missed just having a normal boys conversation. 

The two pairs were sat in elevated alcoves on tatami, walled on three sides by screens, and open at the front which led out onto the main thoroughfare of the restaurant which was used mostly by waiters, and customers either coming in, leaving, or heading to and fro from the privy. Curtains hung low enough over the open side to hide the inhabitants’ faces. 

The din of voices was at a comfortable level, indicating nearly every alcove had some measure of conversation going on inside, all ranging from things as simple as the weather and how the ginger was pickled too much, to politics about how Hojo Ujiyasu had unified the Kanto region and his methods of ruling. 

Mitsuhide briefly tuned in to Aki’s and Chiyo’s conversation. Theirs was talking about neighbouring families and what they were doing and who said what to who. Gossip, in other words, which Mitsuhide was not too fussed on. Aki seemed to be enjoying herself though, so he left her to it, satisfied she was happy. He returned back to Ichirou who was rubbing his hands eagerly while the waiter placed their trays down before them. 

Mitsuhide thanked the waiter politely. She appeared to be a few years older than Mitsuhide, and she blushed, before retreating with a bow. 

“I wish I had that effect on women,” Ichirou said after she had gone from earshot, and having already shovelled a large amount of food into his mouth. 

“Hm?” Mitsuhide turned back to his friend. “What affect?”

Ichirou pointed his chopsticks in the direction of the waiter. “Making them swoon over you upon first glance. And here I thought  _I _ was handsome, but apparently not as much as you.”

Mitsuhide snorted and picked up his bowl of red miso soup. “You exaggerate, Ichirou. You’ve always been one for exaggeration and theatricalities”

“Nu-uh!” He objected and had to swallow his current mouthful before continuing. “I swear every girl in the town has something good to say about you, especially how you look. You’ve grown taller over the winter. Are you taller than me now?”

Mitsuhide did notice the height. “Sit up straighter for a moment.”

Ichirou did, and indeed Mitsuhide had grown perhaps an inch taller than Ichirou since their last encounter. They used to be the same height.

“Curse it,” Ichirou sniffed. “You did get taller. Competition is going to be so tough for me now.”

Despite the apparent sulking, it was all in good humour, and Mitsuhide enjoyed it. He almost felt like he had forgotten how to interact with such conversation, given his winter had been so formal to tend to his esteemed uncle and cousin. 

“There will always be competition, my friend. And rest assured, you will retain your good looks for a while yet. I will be surprised if you’re not married soon.”

Ichirou perked up upon that utterance and his expression softened. Mitsuhide looked at him, indeed surprised, but for a different reason now.

“Oh? You have someone in mind?”

Ichirou swallowed and put his bowl of rice down. He turned his gaze down fondly. “I wanted you to be the first of my friends to find out. I uh, I found a girl I like, and I mean, really like. I think I love her. She lives a few houses down from us.”

Mitsuhide found himself feeling pleased for his friend’s newfound love. And excited, ironically enough. It was a new chapter, a new development. Mitsuhide had never been able to imagine Ichirou as being grown-up enough to actually settle down. Even now, he behaved like a child. But Mitsuhide could see the fondness in Ichirou’s eyes. It was the same look his mother and father had when they shared glances between each other. 

“What is she like?” Mitsuhide asked, intrigued. 

“Ah, well, she’s very soft in nature. I can tease her and I don’t get a quip or a smack like others would give in return. She also teases me, and it makes me feel really warm in my chest. She always seems to be smiling, always happy, never unhappy. I even pick flowers for her! Well, I do now, since the snow is all gone and spring is well underway.”

Mitsuhide chuckled to himself and ate a few mouthfuls of his lunch. “She sounds perfect for you. Someone with a fiery temper will backfire horribly against someone of your character.”

“Hoho! Don’t get me started on that. Can you imagine? There would be arguments constantly! I argue with myself enough as it is – and Chiyo, obviously – don’t need someone else to argue with every day for the rest of my life.”

“That’s why I say this one sounds perfect for you. What is her name?”

“Aimi,” Ichirou said fondly. “The characters are ‘Ai’ for love and ‘mi’ for beautiful.”

Ichirou was completely smitten.

“A lovely name,” Mitsuhide agreed. “I look forward to meeting her.”

Ichirou waved his hands as if in warding. “Oh no, no, not yet. Maybe later.”

Mitsuhide frowned. “Why not?” he asked incredulously. 

“In case she ends up falling in love with you! Leave some for the rest of us, will you?”

“Dear me, will you just give it a rest? I’m not going to steal your woman! How selfish and uncaring do you think I am? I haven’t even begun to think of getting a wife, let alone trying to find one. So rest assured, your Aimi is safe.”

Ichirou laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I feel quite protective of her.”

“I can see that.” Mitsuhide sighed. “Now, a toast.” He raised his sake cup after pouring both Ichirou’s and his own. “To you and your future wife. May you have a marriage filled with joy and love and lots of children.”

Ichirou raised his own cup with a wide grin. “May she love me for the rest of her life, as I surely will love her for eternity.” 

They clinked glasses, and took a drink. They both exhaled heartily as the heat of the alcohol reached their abdomens and set a gentle fire within. 

“So, do both of your families approve?” Mitsuhide questioned. 

Ichirou nodded. “Turns out my aunt is friend’s with Aimi’s mother. So in some senses, we were already family.”

“Well, that is quite fortunate.”

“It is indeed. And since both families knew the other had fairly decent and good backgrounds, there was no reason to have any objection. My father is a carpenter and her father is a blacksmith. It was a really lucky match. I’m quite relieved, actually.”

It really was a lucky match. From the plays and stories Mitsuhide had watched and read, as well as observing reality, he had come to realise that marriage was indeed an alliance more for convenience than anything else. All marriages were arranged for the better of both families. The plays depicted them as a tragedy, for the concept of love was romanticised. It was something many parties desired, but often never attained. On some rare occasions, love was either already there through happy coincidence, or developed later as husband and wife learnt to understand each other through their situational circumstances rather than choice. 

Mitsuhide knew he would one day have to marry for convenience and to strengthen his clan. But deep down in his heart, he did hope that maybe he would be fortunate to also love his future wife. After all, in his particular case, like with all Oni, would be marrying for life, and that life was a long one spanning many centuries. His future wife would be an immortal, like him, and of pure blood. She would be someone like Chigusa, if he were to use a classic example. 

But Mitsuhide could not imagine spending the rest of his immortality with someone like her. Not to mention, she had already fallen in love with Aki anyway, which showed his appearance obviously was not everything.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Ichirou said worriedly. “Oh no, do you disapprove?”

Mitsuhide blinked out of his thoughts. “Pardon? Oh, no, no. I was just thinking.” He then leaned closer and said more softly. “How did you know she – Aimi – was the one for you? Of course I understand that the family connections obviously make it ideal, but what gave it away on a spiritual level?”

Ichirou sat back for a moment in thoughtful silence. “It was a mixture of everything. Her personality, her beauty, her mannerism and how well we can talk to each other. But I think if I were to sum it up, it’s that I just always want to be near her. I can’t really explain it any other way. I just always want to be next to her, whether she is happy or sad or even angry. I want to accept all of her, and I want her to accept all of me. I love all of her. It doesn’t make much sense, but I suppose, that’s just how it is. Some things are not meant to make sense.”

Mitsuhide sipped on his drink, deep in thought. Thinking of when he asked Aki to promise the impossible, and she did. All because he was afraid she would one day return to her original world.

_So selfish,_ he thought to himself. Again. The shame was powerful. He did not own Aki, nor should he.

“It is like an irrational desire to keep someone with you, which becomes stronger when there’s the risk of that person possibly leaving. You want to hold on to them, through no logic which could explain it.”

Ichirou blinked in surprise and reached back out for his food to continue eating. “Yes, it’s exactly like that. How do you know?” Something seemed to flicker in his eyes, as if a light came on. “Wait, have you fallen in love with someone? When? Who?”

The excitement in Ichirou’s voice made his voice go up an octave.

At the same time, Mitsuhide felt a shock to his own mind upon hearing Ichirou’s wording. Had he fallen in love? Was that what it was? The desire to always be with someone? Could it really be as simple as that?

Mitsuhide did enjoy Aki’s company. He liked talking with her, learning from her and teaching her in return. He enjoyed arguing with her, as well as uniting with her against someone else in an argument. He did find her attractive, ever since he first saw her in a full kimono and realised she was actually beautiful, but just chose to ignore it ever since. Because he was afraid that maybe, one day, he would probably fall into the same trap as Ichirou. 

But Aki was by far his senior in age. However, she had not actually aged since she first came. Her mannerism and behaviour fitted her actual age of twenty six. But her appearance was still that of an eighteen year old, and he was now seventeen. 

Mitsuhide found himself speechless, unable to make sense of his thoughts and feelings which threatened to overwhelm him. He glanced at the divider which he knew separated him from Aki and Chiyo on the other side. They were talking about Taka and his new – but entirely justified – fear of water. 

Ichirou saw the glance, and Ichirou being blasted Ichirou, read the unintended hint and he gasped.

And choked on his pickled ginger and mouthful of meat. 

Thoughts of romance and the heart abandoned Mitsuhide’s head, with relief, but still left him somewhat winded. He patted Ichirou on the back. 

“Don’t jump to conclusions, my friend. It gets you tied up in a knot, like now,” Mitsuhide advised, putting on a lighter tone to try and divert attention away, as well as to prepare the humoured mocking of Ichirou’s choking. 

The choking did not stop though, and so Mitsuhide frowned and thumped Ichirou’s back harder. It did not seem to help and Ichirou leaned forward, trying to hit his own chest to dislodge whatever was stuck in his throat. 

Mitsuhide thought Ichirou was going to vomit for a moment as his expression changed and his face changed colour. But it was not the green he was expecting. Instead, his face colour was turning blue and the choking weakened. 

Alarm exploded in Mitsuhide’s chest. Two things crossed his mind at that moment. One was trying to think of how else to help Ichirou besides slapping his back even harder. The other was calling Aki for help.

He barely had to think to the thought when Aki stuck her head between the curtains, a concerned frown on her brow. She had heard the choking.

“What’s –?”

Her question died in an instant and her eyes widened in dismay. “Shit,” she cursed, and leapt into the alcove in a heartbeat. Mitsuhide had never seen her move so fast, besides the fight in the woods years ago against Oni. She moved behind Ichirou and – powered by sudden adrenaline – lifted him from beneath his arms. He was still conscious, but barely. 

Chiyo poked her head through the curtain next and gasped in horror. She almost fainted then and there and Mitsuhide quickly caught her and leant her against the divider where he was originally sitting. 

Meanwhile, Aki wrapped her arms around Ichirou’s torso from behind, then gripped her wrists just below his breastbone. There, she made a quick series of presses against his chest. Each thrust shook Ichirou’s body like a leaf.

The commotion brought an audience and Mitsuhide had to bark at them to leave, but he held onto the waiters and instructed them to bring some fresh water and a napkin. Despite the panic and prospect of having his friend on the verge of choking to death, he trusted Aki to know what she was doing.

On the fifth thrust, whatever was lodged in Ichirou’s throat shot out and splattered between a gap in the curtains to land on the ground, just missing the tatami edge of the alcove. Ichirou sucked in a starved breath, choked and coughed some more, before finally being able to bring in some more steady breaths. Aki lowered him back down as he deflated onto his cushion. He leaned heavily against the table, head lying on the crook of his arm.

Chiyo rushed over to him and rubbed his back. “Ichirou! Oh, Ichirou! Are you alright? Oh my dear stupid brother. You nearly died choking! Is there anything he can drink?” She said the last part as she looked up frantically around the table of the alcove. 

“It is alright, Chiyo,” Mitsuhide tried to soothe her. “I have already asked the waiters to bring some fresh water. There is already some colour returning to his face now, thanks to Aki’s quick thinking.”

Aki moved around to sit between Mitsuhide and Ichirou. She looked as stunned as he felt. 

“How did you know what to do?” Mitsuhide found himself asking in both disbelief, as well as relief and pride. 

“I never thought I’d ever have to use that manoeuvre. I remember being taught it, but never thought I’d have to apply it to practice,” she breathed, sounding out of breath. “Chiyo, don’t worry, he will be fine now. Wait for him to catch his breath.”

Chiyo’s lower lip trembled as she struggled to hold back tears, but she nodded and fell quiet, though continued to rub Ichirou’s back. Despite their sibling bickering, the care was obvious. 

Aki turned back to Mitsuhide after a distracted pause. “I’ll have to teach you later. It’s called the  Heimlich manoeuvre. It’s a series of abdominal thrusts to dislodge food from someone’s throat when they’re choking. You wrap your arms around the patient’s torso just below their breast bone and you basically try and squeeze or compress their chest with sharp pulls. Like this.” She demonstrated on herself. “You just have to remember not to squeeze their abdomen otherwise they vomit instead and you may cause some internal damage. Its five thrusts, followed by five hard slaps on the middle of their back, then five thrusts again. And you keep following the pattern.”

“Hai-me-li-ku . . . manu-veru . . .?” Mitsuhide tried to pronounce the term. Most of the time he would never even attempt to say foreign phrases or words outside the privacy of his rooms. However, he was so caught up in the rush and the excitement of the moment. He had the urge to be a part of whatever Aki was a part of. It felt satisfying, even if it was as simple as asking for water, listening to Aki’s explanation, and trying to learn how it was called. Even the smallest of actions caused a ripple.

“Not bad,” Aki praised.

A few of the waiters arrived, one carrying a bowl of water and the other carrying a cup of very light tea. Mitsuhide thanked them and took the tray with steady hands. The owner appeared behind the waiters not too long afterwards, looking concerned and worried. Beads of sweat ran down the sides of his face. 

“My Lords,” he stammered, bowing his head. Mitsuhide glanced at Aki. She was not paying attention as she took the cups off Mitsuhide’s tray and went back to tending Ichirou. Around the alcove, a number of people had nervously tried to get closer to see the commotion, or what was left of it, again. 

Mitsuhide therefore held up his hand to the manager. “Let us speak somewhere a little more private,” he said, stepping off his alcove and into the main thoroughfare. Those who had risked poking their heads through their own curtains, quickly withdrew upon Mitsuhide’s sharp stare, bowing their heads with embarrassment.

Mitsuhide led the way to small space just off to the side where there was some measure of privacy. There, the shop owner dropped down onto his knees. 

“Please forgive my incompetent cooks,” he blurted out. “We brought great risk to your companions today. Allow me to beat my staff to discipline them so the same mistake does not happen again.” His voice wavered, expecting Mitsuhide to bellow in anger and blame the cooks for having their food choke Ichirou. Most Lords and Ladies would probably do just that, and demand the cooks to be executed. 

Mitsuhide was not like that however. What good was shouting and blaming the cooks when it had nothing to do with them? It was Ichirou’s fault for getting overly excited over nothing while having a mouth full of food. 

It made Mitsuhide smirk with good humour. “At ease, mister . . .”

“. . . G-Goya,” the man answered.

“At ease, Goya-san,” Mitsuhide said soothingly.

Mister Goya stood warily.

“It is not your cooks’ fault. My friend simply got excited over something and gasped while chewing at the same time. Ichirou is not always the brightest lamp on the street,” Mitsuhide chuckled. The adrenaline had now passed, and Mitsuhide felt nothing but relief and a sense of pride over Aki’s quick thinking. A near disaster had been avoided, and now would no doubt be remembered as an amusing story for all to tell in time. 

“You . . . wish for no punishment or compensation?” Mister Goya said uncertainly. 

Mitsuhide shook his head. “No. Ichirou is just a happy fool. But do thank your cooks for making a delicious meal and your waiters for being very efficient. I imagine we shall be returning once my friend recovers from his embarrassment.”

The relief was visible as it washed through the shop owner’s body. He almost sagged and smiled with joy. “You are so generous and kind, Akechi-sama. May you govern over us for many, many years and spread your kindness. As a thanks, I will not charge for your meals today and you and your companions may have a half price discount for every time you return!”

Mitsuhide placed a reassuring hand on Mister Goya’s shoulder. “That is a great kindness in itself. I will thank you on behalf of my company today.”

The smile on the shop owner’s face grew even wider, and they returned to Mitsuhide’s alcove. The waiters were gone, tending to other customers. No doubt Aki had probably sent them away to carry on with their work. She had everything under control. 

Ichirou was taking a sip of the tea, his hands shaking so he had to use both hands to steady himself. But colour had indeed returned to his face.

“How are we doing in here?” Mitsuhide asked brightly, drawing their attention.

“I . . . I think he is alright. He refuses to let me help him drink,” Chiyo said, partly glad from the fact Ichirou seemed to be alright, but also annoyed that he was refusing his sister’s help. 

“He’s fine,” Aki agreed, sounding light-hearted, though her eyes did not leave him and she watched him like a hawk to make sure he didn’t choke on his drink.

Ichirou put his mug back down and glared through watery eyes at Mitsuhide. 

“You need to tell me –” Ichirou began, his voice a croaking puff. But he cut off as another round of coughing took a hold of him. 

“No talking,” Aki instructed. “Focus on breathing. Air will taste as good as food at the moment.”

“Osamu-sama is so knowledgable to be able to save him,” the shop owner said with reverence, bowing his head to her. 

Aki opened her mouth to object, but closed it again, looking troubled. Mitsuhide knew her well enough now to understand her expression related back to her original upbringing which he knew she missed. 

He turned to the shop owner. “Thank you very much for your hospitality, Goya-san. I can take it from here.” Mitsuhide nodded his head to him in respect and thanks. 

The shop owner bowed low. “The honour is mine, Akechi-sama. Thank you for being so kind on my staff.”

Mitsuhide watched him back away, before turning his attention to his three friends. “In all fairness though,” he said. “Are you actually alright?”

Ichirou nodded. “I’ll survive.”

“Do you want to stay and finish? Or should we head back?” Aki asked Ichirou, tilting her head as she offered him the choice. 

Ichirou managed to grin. “Stay. May as well . . . finish the food.”

Aki laughed slightly. “Fair enough. I’ll leave you with Mitsuhide-sama. Come on Chiyo. Let’s finish our lunch and our gossip.”

Chiyo looked surprised. “He will be alright?”

“I’m fine, Nee-san,” Ichirou exhaled. “See, I can talk again now – just about.”

Chiyo then rolled her eyes. If Ichirou could talk, then he was definitely well. Therefore Chiyo climbed out of the alcove, Aki following after her. 

Mitsuhide climbed back in and sat down, shaking his head with disbelief, but his shoulders shook with slight laughter. “Honestly, Ichirou. At this rate you are going to die long before I will. And it won’t even be in battle. You will choke to death on either your own food or your own phlegm.”

“That was your fault!” Ichirou wheezed. The exertion made him cough again and he took another sip of the tea and the water to smooth his throat. “You caught me by surprise. Is it really h –” he started coughing again.

“As Osamu said, stop talking for now and just focus on breathing,” Mitsuhide advised, tucking back into his food nonchalantly. It was best Ichirou not get excited again otherwise they would probably go down the same route as five minutes ago. 

However, it was also to avoid the topic of what Ichirou had caught onto. Mitsuhide, as powerful and promising as he was, had absolutely no idea how to face such a notion which was as foreign to him as the moon. He had spent years trying to come to grips with it, and had simply put it down to valuing Aki as a great teacher as well as friend, and as family. All of those were true.

But deep down, he felt something else in addition to those things. And it was that additional factor which suddenly complicated things on many levels. It was best to just ignore it. Ignorance was bliss. 

Yet, a nagging feeling within the same part of his heart, did not want to keep it buried. But he had not a clue on how to bring it to light. 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

May; 1545

_I found myself in a strange location. Strange, yet beautiful. The vast garden was exquisitely arranged, dotted with winding maple trees in full bloom, their orange and red leaves glowing with an inner light. Its warmth illuminated the stone garden and its patterns of waves like a lake frozen in time. Bright moss blanketed stones and marked the edges of the path I stood on. _

_There were many paths, winding to and fro in between the trees and the boulders, creating a great tapestry of art within the confines of nature. A pond rippled close by, its waters as clear as crystal, and carp swam lazily beneath the surface._

_Between the standing trees and the curtain of low branches and leaves, the red pillars of a wide temple stood in the distance. The light from within it emanated out, as if to enhance the glow of leaves with its own. Yet it was gentle and warm, but still gave a sense of grandeur as I began to see the full size of the temple and its sweeping roofs. _

_Beyond it, were distant snow-capped mountains and a starry sky, patched with cloud which decided they were not going anywhere in a hurry this night. A few shooting stars arced across the sky. They did not soar in straight lines however. They deviated, this way and that with steady changes in trajectory, as if they were alive with a mind of their own. Perhaps they were celestial beings, flying high in the sky._

_Despite the warmth and the beauty, it was eerily quiet. Silent, in fact. _

_I was aware this was a dream, for no such place on Earth had glowing maple leaves. This was a place of magic. I could feel it in the very air as I made my way slowly towards the temple. There was no rush. I felt oddly at peace and at ease here, like it was familiar. I had visited similar places before in my dreams, but those places were in mythical China, not a mythical Japan. _

_Pausing by the pond, I stopped at the rocky edge and looked down, seeing my reflection. I wore an attire of pale green, designed almost like a cross between a Japanese kimono and a Chinese hanfu. It was beautiful, and I found myself wondering why no one had ever thought to try and design and sew such a beautiful combination. _

“_Walker of Time.”_

_I glanced up at the voice, surprised because I had not seen anyone else here. Yet I did not feel alarmed. _

_On the opposite side of the small pond was a tall pale man, with long white hair and equally pale eyes, but with slitted pupils. He appeared like a humanoid version of a snake, and I recognised him as such, a divine one. Even more so, I recognised him as the snake god, or demon, who pulled me into the lake all those years ago. It was by his hands directly that I found myself in Sengoku Japan. _

_Over the years I had learnt of them from the Akechi. This pale man was one of the Superiors, the highest beings in Japanese mythology, whether they be gods or demons. _

_My eyes widened and my lips parted in stunned silence. I had been searching for them for so long. And at long last, I finally found one. _

_There were so many things I wanted to ask and to say. Why did they bring me here? Why choose me? Would I ever be able to return to my own time? What did they want from me?_

_All of those questions remained unborn however, sucked from my mind as all I could do was stare at this entity. Even though he did not move and bore such elegance and sleekness to his form, there was such power within his very presence, power and age. Such great age and wisdom within those serpentine eyes. _

“_Cultivate the gift your father left to you,” he said, his voice as slippery as his nature, trickling into my ears like white velvet. “Actively cultivate your Sight, and you shall find us again soon.”_

_He looked down into the water. I followed his gaze to my reflection. Instead of my brown eyes, my irises were pale and icy green, like the waters of the Antarctic. _

_Like my father’s eyes._

_They had the slightest of glows to them, as if a cold fire had been awakened within. _

Xxxxx

I woke with a subtle jolt, and sprung my eyes wide awake. The same silence met my ears, except this was the silence of a castle asleep. It was still mainly dark, save for the creeping dawn struggling through the screens.

I lay there, allowing the silence to deepen around me and for my eyes to adjust to the wan light. The faintest sounds of a few early birds trickled to me through the walls, reminding me I was back in reality. There was solace within that thought and realisation.

The haunting echo of the dream was still very fresh however. I was unsure as to where I was. It’s beauty still lingered within my memory, and my desire to go back into the dream could not be denied. Indeed I wish I could, so I could speak and talk.

For over eight years I had been seeking and hoping to see the ones who brought me here. I was no longer afraid of them. Living with the Akechi had taught me a great deal of things about living with beyond-human entities. There was respect, for their power, age and wisdom, as well as a healthy level of fear of their extreme strength and speed, not so much of the Akechi, but of encountering more enemies like the Hayato in the future, where their goal was to kill and destroy.

However, I knew the Akechi were very careful to not alarm me with their abilities, and had been done in small doses ever since I was told of their true identities.

With the Superiors though, I just wished I could talk to them. The dream itself had been a fascinating experience! A surprise, certainly, and perhaps even a shock. But fascination and my desire to encounter them again was stronger than my caution for them.

Despite that, instead of having my questions asked and answered, he had spoken to me instead.

_Use the gift my father gave me. Cultivate my Sight. _

I stared up at the ceiling, remembering my reflection, and most of all, my eyes there. They were pale green, almost an icy green. My father’s eyes were that colour. Obviously I never got the gene for those colours of eyes as Asian genetics were always stronger in eye and hair colour as opposed to western genes.

I did have his smile instead however. And it was a smile I knew brought joy to others, as he himself did.

My eyes watered. I chose not to wipe them.

But by Sight, I knew with a dreaded inkling of what the divine snake meant. They meant my dreams and ability to see snippets of the future. That, along with the ability to travel along the astral plane, were abilities passed down from my father’s family. We may have been British, but our deeper ancestry was Welsh, and there was a great deal of old magic in those lands still.

Since the series of dreams depicting the exact night and fight of Mitsukuni’s death, I had chosen not to delve too deep into those abilities again. Every now and then, I had used snippets of the ability in my waking days for even mundane things, such as to see how the day may possibly pan out. But going further and deeper, was something I chose not to do, especially as I knew what was going to happen anyway since this was my history. I knew what was going to happen within Japan for the next five hundred years. What use was the ability to see the future when I had already read its history?

But no. It could never be as simple as that. The Superiors, like the Akechi, were entities beyond this world. They just chose to have their hand within it when needed, to either guide, or to sow deceit. I did not believe the Superiors were there for deceit. I trusted the Akechi on this matter. Therefore it had to be the former.

_Cultivate my Sight, huh,_ I wondered with a heavy sigh. Did they really want me to actively use my ability? I did not even know how to actively use it. It just sort of came sometimes. I did not really know how to control it. 

But . . . if they wanted me to start using it, then it had to be for a reason, didn’t it? In the same way there was a reason for their bringing me here. All things happened for a reason. That was the greatest lesson in the magics of the natural world and beyond.

I tried to go back to sleep, to push the prospect of having to follow an impossible message, away from my mind. To let it sit and for the subconscious to work its way through it. Sleep eluded me however, therefore I got up and walked over to the screens leading outside onto the veranda. I pulled the paper one to the side, followed by the wooden one, and let the fresh air of early morning float in through the gap. 

It smelt of the dew  glittering across the leaves of the trees and bushes. A few birds sang in the trees, while some were still asleep, like the rest of the castle.  A wild rabbit hopped carefully over the stone lawn, appearing confused by the lack of grass in that patch. The gardener would go ballistic if he knew a rabbit was in the garden.

The eastern region of the sky had the slightest twinges of pink as the sun lurked beyond the horizon, still sleepy itself,  but slowly rising in its own time. 

There was no wind this early in the morning, and I stood by the open screen, drinking in the early dawn. It was peaceful and calm. Despite how tough it always was for everyone to get up early in the morning, the peace and tranquillity of dawn – like dusk – was beyond compare. They were perhaps the only two times of day where one could actually feel the connection to mother nature, as if the veil between the human world and the natural world were brought together for a  few short moments.  Similar to how the solstices were supposed to mark the merging of worlds together, dusk and dawn felt like the same thing, except for a shorter length of time. It made me wonder if that was perhaps how my meeting with a Superior in the dream occurred, because our worlds were briefly joined. 

I did not want to go back to sleep now that I was awake, thinking.  But I did want to take advantage of the quiet and lack of activity before everyone else woke up. Therefore I decided on practising kendo. The training helped focus my mind.

I freshened up first before changing into simple hakama trousers and tied my hair back with a band. As I walked towards the dojo, I thought back to the robes I wore in the dream. A cross between a kimono and hanfu was perfect. A hanfu was far more manoeuvrable and flowing, and a kimono had the beauty of enormous bows and indicating rank. I would love to wear a kimono more often, but they were so restricting. If there could be a cross between the two designs, that would suit me perfectly, because then I could dress beautifully as a woman, and still have the flexibility to fight. I had always been an enormous fan of traditional Chinese dramas were women were as skilled with martial arts as men. Many a night I had spent fantasising over being one of those legendary jianghu warriors.

Of course, Japanese women had their own styles of combat to work within the confines of their robes. The naginata, single dagger and aikido were some of those, and I had learnt them as well, though not as well as I would have liked. It was not the same however as having the full range of movement a hakama provided.

I thought about the dream as I left my sandals at the steps onto the veranda.

_The Sight . . . how do I cultivate it? What did he mean by actively cultivating?_

There was a small pit of dread within my stomach. Most of the time, when I did See, it showed me what I did not want See. Like life, it was unpredictable and challenging, filled with trials with no way to prepare for them, even if I knew what was coming sometimes. 

The faintest sounds of clacks and  shuffling  feet brought my attention back to reality and to the dojo.  Was someone already inside and training early?

Tentatively, I stepped into the front hall which worked around the side where all the gear was usually locked away. There were spaces for people to change here as well.  I walked along the corridor, listening. Judging from the sound, there was only one person, and they sounded very practised as they made little noise. 

Up ahead, I saw another pair of sandals next to an open screen. There was just the slightest hints of light, possibly from one candle, inside the main hall of the dojo itself, and I watched the shadow of the individual through the paper screens. As the candle flame flickered, the individual moved across the hall, wielding a staff with ghostly grace as the flickering shadow made it dance and skip through space itself.

It had to be either one of the Lords or Makoto, or the guard captain. I could not think of anyone else who would move with such expertise.

Staying within the shadows, I poked my head around the edge of the open screen to see who it was.

The man who practised alone was young. He wielded a spear, it turned out, not a plain staff. He wielded it with such grace and skill, moving from one kata to the next with such a fluidity I could not tell where one ended and the other began. Strands of his hair had come loose from his band, and floated around him like dark ribbons, seemingly mirroring the strikes, swipes and twists of the spear. He moved with an agility that was as lithe as a dancer, yet as deadly as tiger, and as strong and as fast as a demon.

I found myself staring, trapped by his form, his movements and entranced by the presence he seemed to project out like waves from his combat.

He was beautiful.

He was Mitsuhide.

I watched him in stunned awe. I had trained with him so many times, and had watched him train with others as well, and had watched him train alone too.

And yet, I had never seen him move like this, nor had I seen him wield the spear before. But I did recall from previous research that Mitsuhide had become very proficient in the spear, more so than the katana despite being depicted as wielding the katana in paintings and in other adaptions such as games.

Watching him now, I was reminded of the first time I saw him really fight, even when he had been a child and the white hair crowned his head with his true birthright. Such speed, such ferocity, yet with deadly grace and precision. One was lured in by its mesmerising effects, before being killed.

I wondered why I never saw him fight like this in both real combat and in training. But as I stared, I began to understand.

Here, he moved and fought according to his actual limits. Here, I saw the inner Oni emerge. Captivating and beautiful like a vampire, yet as dangerous as the devil himself.

I was reminded that that was who he actually was. Heir of the Oni, he was the great leader of all demons and celestials alike in the lands of Japan. This boy . . . this man, would soon be the most powerful being in Japan, both in the human and the supernatural world.

Here however, he lived in the human world, and therefore had to act and behave as such. Likewise in the Toki-Saito battle, the Toki could have won easily had they revealed their true abilities. But they chose not to, and kept their limitations within human expectations.

It dawned on me that was what Mitsuhide had been doing, even in front of me. It was a bitter and sad reminder of how weak, and how fragile I was compared to him. Why did Mitsukuni place me as his son’s bodyguard when I could never hope to compare against such a person? Just thinking back to the ambush and murder brought a chill to my bones. I could do nothing against such powerful enemies, nor had I any strength to help Mitsukuni and Mitsuhide.

I was useless, essentially.

For the first time in a while, I felt a keen sting in my heart, one which had nothing to do with memories of my original family. This bitterness was to do with my new family here, for once. I may be as strange as them as I was to everyone else, but that was all a lie. I was just a normal human woman, with a standard education and a variety of hobbies. I had some strange abilities as well. But that was nothing by comparison.

_I . . . I don’t belong here, _I thought miserably.

It was a thought I had pushed away to the deepest recesses of my mind over the last eight years. It was the only way I could survive here, by latching onto a family I could try and become a part of, so the void left behind by my own would not swallow me.

But I could not hide from the truth. How was I supposed to protect a young man who was clearly so superior to myself? Watching Mitsuhide’s skill brought a flash of jealousy to my heart as I wished for such skill and grace myself. What was I even doing here? He could take care of himself in battle.

On the other hand, if I was supposed to be guiding him through his future, then that had also already gone horribly wrong by Chigusa’s confession being for me, not for him. Likewise Mitsuhide and Hiroko were also supposed to be engaged by now. It should have all happened when he was sixteen. He was seventeen now, and there was nothing. The only things which had gone according to the timeline were Mitsukuni’s death, Saito Dousan’s victory, and Mitsuhide becoming Mino’s administrator. But in none of those could I have ever taken into account the fact that the supernatural existed very much.

All of this was like a wave of failure as it crashed over my head, and I felt tears sting my eyes. The wave was expected, but the tears were not as some slipped down my face. I turned away quickly, holding a hand to my mouth and nose to keep within a sniffle and sob which threatened.

Last thing I wanted was to interrupt Mitsuhide. He most likely knew I had been watching him regardless. Nothing missed his keen eyes and ears. However, I most certainly did not want him to see my tears. The last time had been Mitsukuni’s death. I had never seen Mitsuhide cry after that, and likewise he had never seen mine since then either.

My place in this world, in this family, was something I had to piece together myself, for no one else knew where I fitted into the grand puzzle aside from the Superiors themselves.

I just wished I did not have to figure it out alone.

I went back to my rooms and looped my arms through the sleeves of a haori and let loose my hair. It would still be another hour yet before those of the household began to waken to prepare for the day by cooking and cleaning.

I left my screen open and sat on the edge of the veranda, hugging my knees beneath my chin as I watched the garden and the early birds. The rabbit had gone. Despite the peace and tranquillity of the garden, I still felt miserable. For many years I had kept the depression at bay by distracting myself with the kindness of the Akechi, making new friends in the town whom I could chat and joke with, and learning to fight. There were so many things I had done to self-cultivate myself to improve myself, as well as trying my best to help others using what knowledge I had.

However, I knew one day the hidden depression would catch up. The pain of not having my true family with me was unbearable. The fear of being cast out by the Akechi because I was not truly one of them, was enough to cripple me. I could not deny being envious of Mitsuhide’s supreme martial skill, and it made me feel stupid and pathetic to be labelled as his ‘bodyguard’ when it would be more likely that he’ll be the one protecting me, not the other way around.

I felt lost and uncertain since history had gone astray. I still did not know what I was supposed to be doing, whether it was to follow the original timeline, or to change it. Both were such heavy responsibilities of which I was not sure I was ready for. Was that why my dream told me to cultivate my Sight? Would my Sight be the one to guide the way?

Things were complicated enough by being in Sengoku Japan. Trying to follow the original history would be hard enough without the added factor that Oni actually existed and played their hand in human politics.

It changed everything! Would that therefore change history? Would it change time? Would I cease to be born because my family would never have been created?

I bowed my head against my knees. What help and advice I needed was far beyond my reach, while my problems and thoughts were overwhelming.

How I wished and yearned for my parents or sister to talk to.

The faintest vibrations of footsteps made me look up, surprised. No one should be up yet.

Mitsuhide walked over to me, as silent as a cat. I inhaled sharply, eyes wide. He finished his katas sooner than I expected. Either that or I had been trapped in my thoughts for longer than I realised.

I turned my face away and tried to wipe the tear smears from my cheeks, both mortified and embarrassed, and forgetting to greet him at the same time, which had completely escaped my priorities.

He did not say anything though, and gently sat down next to me. Mitsuhide leaned back and gazed up at the sky through the strands of hair which had come loose from his ponytail. He really was beginning mature in both physique and his face. Even just sitting like this, he was now taller than me, and muscle had replaced the childhood fat of his boyhood. He was still so young, still not really a man until he was eighteen. But the round face of his childhood had gone, replaced by fine, slender features, and the physique to match.

It was hard to remember sometimes that he was no longer a child.

A few beads of sweat dotted his forehead from his training. I could almost feel the warmth of his body from where I sat. Yet he was not out of breath.

As the silence stretched on, I felt I knew why he was here.

Company.

I looked down at my hands which wrapped around my legs, feeling shame. I dwelled too much within my own past, missing it so much that I had forgotten my current present, which was here. And the one person who had always been a steady constant in all of it, was Mitsuhide.

_Perhaps that is why I am so afraid of being cast out. I am afraid of Mitsuhide-sama decid_ _ing_ _ I am no longer needed in his family. He is my only anchor here. Without him, I literally have nothing. Absolutely nothing. _

“I like using the spear,” Mitsuhide said softly, breaking the silence. “It is a simple weapon with great flexibility and range. I feel lighter when I use it, as if I can fly, like the birds.”

I knew what he was doing, and I couldn’t help but smile as I sniffed. He was putting aside his rank and just being there, as a friend. He was the greatest friend I could ever have.

“I know,” I said, having to clear my throat as some emotion still choked it. It was a relief, to not be asked why I was upset.

Mitsuhide peered at me with a raised eyebrow. “How can you know? You had never seen me wield one until now.”

The Akechi already knew I understood a great deal of the future to come, and Mitsuhide was no different now that he was older. They had also respected the fact I could say very little on the matter as well, despite how much I really wanted to tell them about it.

So I just looked ahead instead at the garden. “It’s the way you move while wielding it,” I said, thinking back to the recent memory. “I think you’ll favour the spear above the other weapons out there.”

“I feel you are correct in that assessment. You can watch me practice, if you wish,” he offered.

A warm flutter blossomed in my chest. “I think . . . I think I will like that . . . Do you normally practice this early before everyone wakes up?”

Mitsuhide raised one leg up so he could rest his elbow across his knee, while the other leg hung over the veranda edge.

“On most mornings,” he said thoughtfully. “For the last year.”

“Only a year and already so skilled. Your blood really does have its advantages,” I mused, but then fell quiet for a moment. “Is that why you train so early, so others do not get alarmed by the speed of your progress?”

Mitsuhide tilted his head to the side in thought. “It is not so much that. They would put it down to being a protege,” he said quietly and glanced at me. “It is because they will see more of my actual abilities. I . . . don’t want to alarm them, nor do I want the soldiers creating fanciful stories and descriptions describing my movements and starting rumours.”

I cast my eyes down. “Is that why you also never showed me? So I would not be alarmed by the true capabilities of your nature?”

Mitsuhide did not answer. Instead, he also looked down, and I saw some remnant nervousness creep into his expression.

“Why show me now?” I asked gently.

“I . . . I was always worried, after you saw my true form when I was a boy, that you would fear me, especially as I grow and mature and become stronger. You have been here for the majority of my childhood, and I must admit, I have very little memory wherein you are not there. They have all been good memories,” he said softly. “Therefore I did not want you to have any bad memories of me, either. The last thing I want is for my true nature to frighten you. It would change everything, and I don’t want anything to change.” He sighed. “But as I grow closer to becoming eighteen, it is beginning to dawn on me the longer you stay with us, the more likely you are to be wrapped up within the politics of the divine and demon worlds. You will see me for who I really am, and . . . I don’t want that to frighten you away. So that is why I let you see me this morning, as a way to ease you into our ways over the coming months and years.”

I stared at Mitsuhide. He kept his gaze down, unable to look at me as he exposed his feelings. What a fool I had been. All these years I had feared I would be cast out by them, by him, for being the one who did not belong, and for being a human in their Oni world.

It had never occurred to me that Mitsuhide had his own fears as well, and had been so similar to mine, except he feared I would leave because his strength would frighten me.

I touched his arm. It surprised him and he jumped slightly. I held his gaze when he brought them to mine. He was holding his breath.

“The power to protect, is one I will never fear. And yours, Mitsuhide-sama, is the power and strength to protect those who are important to you.”

No tears welled within his eyes, but the emotion was strong. Likewise the emotion within my own heart was strong, except it was also accompanied by moisture in my eyes. I could almost feel his entire body relax as the tension was released, and a new, positive energy, replaced it.

I laughed slightly to myself. “I am such a fool. All these years I had also feared. I feared my usefulness within this family and in serving you. Even now, I still cannot see how I could possibly protect you as a retainer. I am the only human in your family, and by that definition, I do not belong here. But I . . . I cannot imagine losing another family – this family.” My voice broke at that moment as the prospect of it swelled in my throat again. I cleared my throat so I could continue speaking, but it came out strained. “Likewise how I have been there for most of your childhood, you too have been my only anchor of stability in this world. Being your retainer seems to be the only reason I can stay here, but even that title is a lie.”

I hunkered down into my knees, feeling exposed. I had never said this to anyone, least of all so emotively. They were my fears, laid out and offered like a full plate. But would he accept them, as I had accepted his?

“It is no lie, Aki,” Mitsuhide eventually said. “Being my retainer gives the family the perfect excuse to have you stay beside me so as to not bring questions from the public. And my father loved you enough as if you were his daughter, and that is what you became. You belong in this family, Aki, regardless of the blood in your veins.” He then snorted, ever so gently, in amusement. “I may be more skilled in combat than you, but there are other things of mine you protect, besides my life. And most of these things are not visible nor obvious to see.”

I glanced at him warily, perking up with meek hope.

He smiled. “Rest assured, Aki. We will not be letting go of you so easily. And . . . I am quite happy to remain as your anchor, if you will also allow that.”

It was like the sun broke through the clouds, and finally, the inner fears dissipated, like vapour in the air. All I had to hear was that I was wanted, that I was needed. And it had to come from Mitsuhide, not his mother or uncles or cousins.

Here and now, I could truly feel the bond of friendship between us. And it was as secure as a mountain was to the land.

Mitsuhide handed me a silken, lilac handkerchief from his sleeve, noticing my stray tears before I did, except these tears were a mix of the old fears and new peace and joy.

“Thank you,” I said, accepting it and dabbing my eyes. “And you don’t need to ask something so silly. But yes, I will definitely allow that.”

I held out the handkerchief and he shook his head. “Keep it,” he offered.

I hesitated, before wrapping the rest of my fingers around the cloth. It may seem insignificant to him, but to me, it was now as precious to me as my katana was.

“Mitsuhide-sama. You will never have to worry again in the future of my being frightened of you,” I said. “I know there is great power within you, but I also know you. Such power could not be in better and safer hands.”

He looked down at his hands.

“And besides,” I continued, trying to lighten my tone. “How could I possibly be afraid of the same boy who’s cheeks I used to pinch? Even if you have grown much bigger since then.”

Mitsuhide’s distracted expression was transformed by the smile, and I saw the fondness of memory within them. It would be impossible to try and pinch those cheeks now. The remains of childhood chubbiness had all gone. But also it would be incredibly inappropriate of me to do such a thing to him at his age now. A wrong conclusion could easily arise from it.

Distant activity drew both of our attention back into the castle and towards the direction of the dojo and barracks. Life was stirring and the castle was beginning to wake up. We would both have to prepare for the day as well, and I could not help but feel the disappointment of having to end our conversation here. It was nice, to have a heartfelt conversation with Mitsuhide. It made me feel closer to him, and it made our friendship stronger. He was my family.

I still sighed with grim acceptance. “It appears that we have to start the day.”

Mitsuhide exhaled softly. “It appears that we do. Time never stands still, even for an immortal.” He moved to stand, but stopped and turned to face me. “Aki . . . When it is just the two of us, you do not have to use my honorific title. Just call me by my name alone.”

My eyes widened, astonished by what he was asking. He was my Lord, therefore it was only natural I addressed him as such. Purely first name address was incredibly personal and represented a very personal, intimate and trusting relationship. It was something between family, a husband and wife, and extremely close friends. For him to ask me to drop his title when he himself was a Lord, implied he felt and believed that strongly in our bond.

I was speechless, mildly aware of my partial gape, yet unable to close my mouth.

Mitsuhide saw and a look of entertainment passed his face. “Think about it,” he suggested, then finally stood up. “I shall see you after the morning meal. We will need to prepare for our trip to Inabayama Castle today.”

I watched him leave, still speechless.

_He is such a good young man. __His future wife – whoever that may be at this rate – will be a lucky woman indeed,_ I thought quietly, and my heart ached. _It’s just such a shame . . . that I am so much older than him. _

I pressed my lips into a thin line as the thought wrecked havoc within my mind and heart. Such a thought was absolutely outrageous. I was a twenty-six year old female retainer for goodness sake. Old and unmarriable by now in traditional standards for this era. Additionally I was not from this time-era. Even if I wished to marry, it would be impossible. I would need the Akechi’s blessing. But even if I did have their blessing for any sort of marriage to anyone for that matter, it would only end in failure because none would understand my origins, and therefore no husband would ever understand me.

Besides, I had made the vow to serve Mitsuhide until my time here was complete, whether that meant I died in battle, or was eventually sent back to my own time. By the very nature of my service to Mitsuhide, I was forbidden to marry anyone.

If circumstances had been different, if he were older, or I were younger, then I would probably risk dreaming of such a fantasy. But even then, he was Oni, I was human. The blood alone was factor enough to reject such a union.

I turned my head away rubbing my eyes with a heavy sigh. It was all just stupid thoughts and they needed to be banished. All that mattered was my friendship with him, and that was more than enough for my peace of mind. I would be supporting and guiding his decisions no matter what in the future. I still had to see if Mitsuhide had the potential to show interest in Hiroko. She was the only other one aside from Chigusa who had become his wife.

Deep down however, I could not help but take a sudden U-turn in my initial approach to the two as a couple. Where at first I had fully supported it, I now partially wished it followed Chigusa’s development in being directed elsewhere. Perhaps then at least Mitsuhide could remain as my stable rock in this world through our friendship.

I dared not think of the consequences to the future should such a development between Hiroko and Mitsuhide not happen, however.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Within Inabayama Castle, Mitsuhide was deep in a meeting with Saito Dousan, talking about skirmishes along the border by the Oda. I did not worry too much about this news as it was only to start off as skirmishes in the beginning. It was later on as the years went by that the bigger conflicts would occur. The next big battle would be the Battle of Kanoguchi against Oda Nobuhide. Thankfully, Dousan would win that one, or _should_ win that one at least if everything still followed the proper flow of time.

It was beginning to become more difficult now since I had lost confidence after certain things were not going according to plan. I had not given up however. In an age where war was common and provinces warred on our very doorsteps, letting my guard down could mean instant and unpredictable death. There was no time to bury my head in the sand and hope my problems would disappear. Having Mitsuhide’s support and friendship reminded me of the strength I already had. He had been there to comfort me, even if they were just words and he had no idea of the task I had ahead of me nor his own future of war. I took his words as one would rely on a promise, on an oath. I had already made this oath to him, and now, he had returned the favour.

Regardless of what was going to happen in the future, I had decided in my heart one thing which had become as solid as rock.

I would protect him.

“_There are other things of mine you protect, besides my life. And most of these things are not visible nor obvious to see.”_

Warmth bubbled in my chest as I thought back on his words.

I sat back against the trunk of a great tree, just down the hill from the grounds of Inabayama Castle. Part of it was to escape the demanding attention of attendants, Miyoshino-hime, and Nou-hime.  Mitsuhide and I were staying the night at the Castle, therefore they would have plenty of my attention then. But until such time, I wished to be alone as I directed some of my newfound resolve – tentative though it was – to something I had been avoiding for some time.

The wind had died down, as it often did towards the end of a day sometimes. The birdsong was loud, mingled with the distant hum of the town below, and the castle above just a few dozen metres away. The outer wall blocked much of the sounds of the castle, but not all. Likewise the canopy of the trees seemed to accentuate the music of the birdsong.

Combined, they made a form of white noise which allowed me to drift off into my own thoughts, to focus on prying with the Sight. I did not close my eyes, as I found it easier in this sense to keep them open to watch the trees and to hear the woods.  The birds tweeted and sang, and the soldiers chatted in the distance. What faint breeze there was, moved the branches in slow and lethargic sways. The branches clacked against each other, the trunks groaned softly, and the leaves whispered between the birds as they flapped from one tree to the other. 

Old and mighty, it was as if even the trees sometimes hummed their thoughts as the young life of birds and humans and squirrels rushed by them,  living and dying, in the same way the sun rose and sank through the sky, watching. 

Sound took a strange affect in my ears, of which I did not fight, and chose to sink into it. It enveloped me, like a great dome. All of the voices were combined, as if all as one, yet simultaneously, they were all separate, sometimes louder than others, or gentler, all speaking the voice of nature, of life. It was everywhere, yet also within, as if I could become a part of it if I sat long enough. I could see myself melding with the roots of the trees as the leaves became my new and ancient skin. Icy green eyes would still watch from within.

Those eyes watched how the rays of sunlight streamed through the canopy, freshening the green of the leaves, making rich the trunks in their hues of brown and highlighting their creases for all to see their age and wisdom. Flashes of colour splashed through the woods as the wings of birds caught the sunlight. A squirrel enjoyed its warmth as it fussed with an acorn on a branch above me.

I could see, or imagine, the acorn slipping from its paws and the rodent watching it fall, debating whether or not to go down to fetch it when it landed. Except it would land on the head of a hiding human below, catching the squirrel by surprise for not noticing the human there in the first place.

Whether they were the squirrel’s actual thoughts or feelings, or my imaginings, I found them very humorous. If one allowed it, they could read an animal or creature as well as they could read the emotion from a person’s face.  Anyone with a beloved pet whom they connected with could agree. 

I laughed to myself, bringing myself back to my present reality.  The sounds and sights became sharper again, and I almost missed my wanderings, for they were like dreams. 

Something landed on my head and I flinched. It bounced down to land beside me and I looked at it.

An acorn.

Slowly, I picked it up,  and stared at it for a few moments, but gently turning my head up and, there between the branches, was the squirrel, watching me with beady black eyes. 

I sighed, my shoulders falling in silence.

Who would have thought it was that easy to See. . .

The squirrel scampered away, rustling the leaves as it leapt and bound between its worlds of swaying branches and curtains of leaves. I watched the squirrel leave. Even when it was far beyond my eyesight and hearing, I still gazed after the direction it went.

Only a small portion of me felt pleased by my achievement. Perhaps back in my original time, I would have been amazed and proud, as it was a link back to nature and the old magics, away from modern technology and its stinking pollution.

However, instead, I felt a grim acceptance. Because the truth was, I had done this before, multiple times as a child. After moving onto secondary school, the ability began to fade into the recesses of my mind as the demands of academia took precedence. There it stayed, and never returned to such vividness even when I asked it to. It had never fully gone away however. It was always there, even faintly, having saved me from a few close calls involving cars. Mostly  though , it was just in the dreams where it was much clearer and further into the future by up to a couple of months. 

But what I had done just now, had never been so clear and vivid, nor  so accurate before.  I did wonder if being surrounded by myth and legend had somehow heightened the already existing ability. As a child, I was far more in-tune with nature. Childhood was filled with innocence and purity. Yet come adolescence in the modern world, society pushed nature and its calls away, replacing it with the demand of the system.

Here however, the factories, the vehicles and fumes of pollution was non-existent, especially here in the Far East. Nature, and all of Her natural powers were far more potent.

The Superiors new that. They somehow knew I could still See, and could See much better surrounded by the nature of the world in the 1500s. I wondered if I could do it again, right now.

I hesitated however. In the past I had never tried it more than once a day. Sometimes I could See and feel nothing for months before the next connection came. It was almost as if it reminded me that I was greedy by wishing to See more. It was against the natural laws. There was always a price to be paid in return.

“One should never tempt fate,” I whispered to myself, quoting my father and shutting my eyes for a moment. I felt very tired.

“Cousin Osamu!”

I heard the call before I heard the little sound of feet belonging to a ten-year-old girl.  Opening my eyes, I turned to glance to my side. Nou was making her way through the tufts of grass between the trees, Akito Kenji trailing her like a patient minder. Kenji was not even supposed to be guarding Nou, but she seemed to have taken a liking to him early on, and after introducing her to conkers, she had insisted on playing with Kenji in my absence. 

“Cousin Osamu, I was looking for you,” Nou huffed as she approached, struggling on the surface ground with her sandals.

I glanced over her shoulder at Kenji. He smiled and bowed his head, half in greeting and half in apology, but also partly with humour, as if acknowledging Nou’s behaviour as being a lost cause and chose to just find entertainment in it instead.

“Nou-hime. Akito,” I greeted. “Is it time for me to go back?”

“Yes, I want to show you something. Akito-san, tell her.” Nou had a look of eagerness in her eyes, despite her usual haughty tone. She definitely knew she was a Lady, but she still enjoyed the company and attention of those whom she deemed worthy of her own company.

_Such a little princess,_ I mused and stood.

I lost my balance, and found myself back on the ground having fallen over. My vision swam dizzyingly.

“Cousin Osamu!”

“Osamu-sama?”

The two voices were suddenly concerned and much closer. I blinked the swirls from my vision and pushed myself back into a sitting position, trying to focus on Nou and Kenji. They peered at me with worry.

“Cousin Osamu, what’s wrong?” Nou demanded, though the confusion tinted with worry was there.

“Osamu-sama, are you well? Should I fetch someone?” Kenji asked.

I shook my head, now feeling embarrassed as my initial dizzy spell faded away. “I am fine. I just stood up too fast.”

Nou looked puzzled as she tilted her head. “Stood up too fast? Why would that make you fall over when you did not trip over anything?”

_Oh Nou-hime. I can’t tell if you’re saying that on purpose to make me feel like a_ _n idiot_ _, or whether you’re just simply as ignorant as a normal child. _

I smiled at her as I stood, using the tree to steady my rise again. “It is a woman thing, Nou-hime. Women have more . . . delicate blood. So women become dizzy easier than men. You may notice it as you grow older and bigger.”

It was the easiest explanation I could give to her about women generally being anaemic. How could I describe the science of lack of iron in haemoglobin and therefore lack of oxygen in a woman’s body? Using the ‘delicate’ description was the closest I could come up with.

Then again, saying that, Nou was half Oni, so she may not be affected by it like a normal human woman would be.

I put it to the side, and walked back to the castle with the two of them, still feeling embarrassed from falling over in front of both of them. But also I did wonder to myself why I lost my balance so badly. If I did rise too quickly and felt dizzy, I – like most people – would simply sway and blink away the blurriness. There was once I had half fallen, and that was waking up one morning for school when I had been extremely tired and landed on my knees when my legs gave way. But I had never fallen over entirely, like now. It was bizarre. Aside from feeling a little tired, I otherwise felt fine.

Shrugging to myself, I let the thought die out. It wasn’t important.

Xxxxx

After a long meeting with Saito Dousan, then dinner, and another meeting, Mitsuhide finally had what was left of the evening to himself. There was much to think about. He was aware of the boarder skirmishes happening, and so far things seemed to be holding steadily. However, there were discussions on the possibility of Mitsuhide and Aki being deployed if reinforcements were needed. For now though, it appeared Dousan preferred to keep Mitsuhide behind the lines to administrate the province as usual to keep order and stability. It was a sound argument. Mitsuhide shuddered at the thought of what the state of affairs would look like in his absence, as it did during the winter months.

As he walked through the castle, he wondered about the Oda, and how aware they were of their blood and heritage and of therefore the supernatural politics occurring behind the scenes of human politics. Were their attacks along the boarder as simple as testing defences for a later attempt at taking the land? Or was it more secretive? Was it a test to see if they could get close to Mitsuhide and to challenge him now while he was still young?

Eighteen was the mark. Upon that date, Mitsuhide would become the clan chief, but would also announce his presence throughout the world of demons and spirits. There, he would come into his own as the next Emperor of his race upon his throne in Yomi. It was an unforgiving place, and he was young. Therefore he could not afford mistakes. Yomi and Izumo were loyal to the bloodline, but that did not mean they would be equally as loyal to him as the individual.

Therefore he knew there were high expectations of which he had to meet. He had to establish his authority on that day and take it with a steel grip. Opposing factions could not be allowed to interfere.

His relatives the Toki, although they had retreated from the world of humans, had returned to Yomi and Izumo, where they prepared with his family on this side for the coronation.

It was a feeling of both terror, and exhilaration. It was what he had been born for. This was his identity. It was who he was, and he knew deep down he could do it. Yet at the same time, he would be lying if he said it did not make him terrified.

He debated on the prospects of his future, which was suddenly coming along remarkably quickly.

A trickle of conversation pulled his thoughts back to the present however, and he turned his head in the direction of voices. They were hushed, suspicious, and Mitsuhide paused to listen. They were a group of lesser Lords who were staying in the castle at the time. There were three of them, Mitsuhide recalled from dinner. They paid him respects, and vice versa, but beyond that, Mitsuhide engaged little with them. They had been more curious about Aki. They spoke to her in the beginning, baffled by her role as both male and female. Before turning to their inner circles. Mitsuhide did not miss the snide looks they cast her, disapproving of the fact she was labelled as a samurai because she was a woman.

“They’re saying Yoshitatsu is not the legitimate son of Saito Dousan.”

“Eh? Really? Where did you hear that?”

“I heard from a maid who heard from another who used to work here eighteen years ago. She’s gone now, but apparently Yoshitatsu was born only after seven months.”

“Seven months?” One of them exclaimed, before lowering his voice again. “A baby born that early should’ve died after birth.”

“But they say he’d been born at full size, which has people believe he may have been fathered by someone else before Miyoshino-hime became Saito-sama’s wife.”

“Do we know who the father may have actually been?”

“I couldn’t say. Could be anyone. They are even saying it might be Toki Yorinari.”

“Now that would be a scandal, wouldn’t it? He was exiled in disgrace.”

“You think it could be him? Seems unlikely. He seemed like such a weak fellow. Yoshitatsu is quite capable of brutality by comparison. Have you seen him in battle? He takes after Saito-sama quite a lot.”

“Who can tell? But the point I’m trying to make, gentlemen, is that if Yoshitatsu is not the Lord of Mino’s legitimate son, then he won’t be labelled as the next chief when the time comes.”

“Does Saito Dousan know?”

“Hard to tell at this stage. But I did raise the possibility to him – subtly – and even though he waved it away, he looked quite bothered by it.”

“Well my fellow Lords. It appears we will need to monitor the situation closely. It might be a chance for us to gain greater powers and authority if we play our cards right.”

“Here, here.”

Mitsuhide frowned, disengaging from them as they returned to their drinking. Now, that was a worrying discussion to have heard. It was secret and hidden knowledge. In truth Yoshitatsu was indeed the son of Toki Yorinari. But no one was meant to know as such. The timing had been very inconvenient throughout the whole ordeal in the past, so Mitsuhide had been told by his mother and uncles. Miyoshino had already been two months pregnant when she had been given to Saito Dousan to appease relations. The timing was close enough however that when initial suspicions had arisen, they had been stamped out, favouring how fortune smiled upon Dousan and how his first son was strong enough to live despite being ‘premature’.

Yoshitatsu’s appearance took more after his mother as well, another reason for how suspicions were not raised, and having Dousan as his father figure, his behaviour followed the strongest male role model available.

But if these rumours from eighteen years ago were beginning to resurface, then it bode ill for Dousan and Yoshitatsu. Last thing anyone wanted was for both men to now start questioning legitimacy at a time when allies had to be kept close and enemies had to be watched. The last big conflict Mino suffered was the civil war between the Toki and Saito. Mitsuhide had been too young to partake in that conflict at the time.

Now however, he would be expected to lead and command.

Despite his expertise in combat he had not yet taken part in full-scale battles. The skirmishes he_ had_ foughtwere minor by comparison to the last civil war. He had studied thoroughly the ways of war and battle. But, it was all still just theory for now.

In actuality, despite Aki’s heartfelt confession of how inferior she felt compared to him in her ability to fight and protect and to earn and keep her place in the family, she was far more experienced and skilled in battlefield warfare and castle invasions.

Mitsuhide was probably the only man alive who actually felt proud of that fact. In no way had Aki ever brought shame on the family. Most – like the minor gossiping Lords – could not stand nor accept the fact some women could fight and think in military terms.

On the contrary, the thought of Aki fighting and defending him did bother him. Not because she was a woman who could fight, but more in the sense that Mitsuhide had never really paid her back for saving his life in the past, twice. It felt wrong, because he was a man, yet he had never been given the chance to demonstrate and prove he could protect her in the same way she could protect him. She was, in every sense, still in fact his superior and senior. She was older, and therefore had greater life experience and he would never be able to catch that up. Likewise she clearly had an education which he could also never match.

However, at least in warfare, he may be able to best her. It was perhaps a healthy level of competition, but also just to prove that he was strong enough to protect her in the future.

Mitsuhide continued through the castle towards an upstairs garden viewing veranda to speak to Aki. She had taken a message for both of them which had arrived from outside. He did not catch who from though.

In the mean time, he tucked away the hidden conversation he heard to a deeper part of his mind for future analysis and observation. It was a delicate matter, and one which would have to be handled equally delicately.

When he arrived at the room, it was silent within. He could hear her breathing however and the lamps were still lit. Most likely she was reading or viewing the garden. He knocked gently on the wood of the screen door.

“Aki. I am coming in,” he said as he slid the door open.

The opposite screen was open to the garden and night sky. Aki was sat on the tatami, facing the openness. She held something within her hands which rested on her lap, seemingly lost in thought. However, as Mitsuhide had slid the screen open, the sound of it made her jump, as if she had not been expecting it, and her head whipped behind her with alarm.

For a moment, Mitsuhide thought her eyes had changed colour, to an eerie, glowing icy green. He blinked, and it was gone. Had he just imagined it?

Aki’s expression of alarm smoothed as she sighed in relief. “You scared me, Mitsuhide-sama. I thought you would have knocked on the screen first.”

Mitsuhide stepped in, peering at her oddly as he slid the screen shut behind him. “I_did_ knock. What were you thinking about to have you so absorbed?”

“I . . .” she trailed off and her face went pale for a moment. She looked down, as if suddenly really tired and she took a deep breath, blinking heavily.

Concern swept through Mitsuhide and he knelt down in front of her, suddenly reminded by her illness over the winter. Kenji had approached him in private earlier asking if Aki was well. It was an unexpected question and Mitsuhide dismissed it without a second thought. Of course Aki was well.

But now, he suddenly wondered why Kenji had asked him in the first place and whether it was related to why she suddenly sagged now.

Mitsuhide placed the back of his hand against her forehead to see if she had a fever. “Aki. Are you alright?”

She pushed his hand away and rubbed her eyes with the other, laughing sheepishly. “I am fine. Just tired. I think it’s being around Nou-hime. She can be quite demanding.” The colour returned to her face. Mitsuhide was not convinced. His cousin was indeed a very demanding girl, and Aki had managed that just fine in the past.

Then again, even back then she had often complained afterwards about how tired she was. And her face had returned to a normal colour as well.

Mitsuhide sat back, thoughtful. It probably was nothing. Aki was sound in her knowledge of the body. If she said she was fine, then she most likely was.

_She said that last time though, and ended up getting attacked in a back alley and had to be rescued by Chigusa,_ he thought unhappily.

He changed the topic. “So what was the message?”

Aki handed him the bamboo tube she had been holding. Mitsuhide took it and opened the lid, sliding out the parchment within.

“It is a letter from Tsumaki Norihiro,” Aki said, “asking if we would do them the honour of paying them a visit before we return home.”

It was the first time Aki had ever called their castle ‘home’, Mitsuhide noted. It made him glad to hear it as he scanned the letter. Indeed, the letter was addressed to both of them from the Tsumaki chief, extending an invitation to visit for dinner and to stay the night, before returning to Tara Castle in the morning.

Mitsuhide thought back to his first meeting with the Lord. He was noble in character and remarkably easy-going. His eldest daughter was the same. A plain girl, as Mitsuhide recalled, but with a gentle character. Not a shred of malice nor sly thought within her. She would be fifteen now. Marriable age.

Mitsuhide’s thoughts took a sudden turn as he considered Norihiro’s possible reason for his invitation. Could it be to offer one of his daughters to Mitsuhide for marriage? Having the Tsumaki as solid allies would certainly be convenient, and vice versa on their side. And Mitsuhide liked the man as well.

But marriage?

_Why am I feeling so reluctant all of a sudden? _He thought.

He looked back up to Aki, seeking her verdict. Perhaps he was overthinking it.

“Do we have time in our itinerary for a visit?” He asked, glancing back down at the invitation.

“I think, we probably do. The Tsumaki residence is closer to Inabayama Castle than it is to Tara Castle.”

Mitsuhide found himself unsure as to whether to go or not. The travel would not be an issue, and to pay a visit would reaffirm the friendship between the two families. To decline would be very rude, and it was not in Mitsuhide’s mind to be rude. However, he also did not want to face a possibility of a marriage proposition. It was not that he did not want to get married, because that was untrue. He did want to get married at some point, but it had to be to the right woman. Being around Aki had taught him the value of relationships.

“What do you think? Should we accept?” He poised the question to her.

Her eyebrows shot up and she blinked. “Why are you asking me? I cannot make that decision. This is something for you to decide.” She held up her hands in defence and said warily, “You are the Lord here. I am the retainer.”

“A retainer often has better ideas than their Lord, especially when it comes to visits which were not part of an original plan and can affect their Lord’s safety.”

Aki pressed her lips into a thin line as she realised he had twisted the question against her. He himself was surprised by Aki’s lack of her usual enthusiasm. She had been extremely encouraging of developing their relationship with the Tsuamki family until quite recently.

She took a deep breath. “Tsumaki Norihiro is an honourable man. It would be rude to refuse. Men such as he are rare, and honourable allies are difficult to come by,” she said carefully, surprising him again by her continued support for the family of Tsumaki. What had changed?

It also meant Mitsuhide had to agree. He nodded slowly. “Very well. Can you write a letter and send it back to Tara Castle, explaining our return will be delayed by a day or two?”

Aki bowed her head. “Of course, Mitsuhide-sama.” She stood, still unable to drop the honorific.

Mitsuhide caught her wrist. That same jolt of energy went through him upon the skin contact. “Aki . . . is everything alright?”

Startled, she withdrew her hand instantly and clasped them. “Don’t be silly, Mitsuhide-sama. What makes you think that?”

Mitsuhide stayed seated. Somehow he felt if he stood it would startle her even more.

“You have been behaving strangely all day today.” He avoided mentioning Kenji, but held her gaze.

In the end, her tight expression softened. “It is fine. I am well. I just had a troubling dream last night. That is all.”

Mitsuhide frowned. Her dreams were never to be taken lightly. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

She smiled and shook her head. “I am still trying to make sense of it. Until then, even if I wished to speak to you of it, it would come out as garbled nonsense. Now, go to bed. You have had quite a full day today and you will need the rest.”

Mitsuhide sighed. “Very well. I shall return to my rooms. Do not take too long to deliver the message. I will see you in the morning.”

Aki’s smile remained and she bowed. “Goodnight then . . . Mitsuhide,” she said softly.

Hearing her say his name without the title sent a flutter of warmth through him, and a joy spread through his bones, touching his face as he returned the smile.

It may have only been once during their private conversation, but that one time lifted his entire mood. He forgot about his initial concern for her. He forgot about the Lords and their threatening gossip. He forgot about the discussions of conflict he had with Dousan concerning the boarder.

Mitsuhide felt peaceful, and it was as if the moon herself glowed with approval in the night sky.

Xxxxx

The next day from when we received the invitation, we arrived at the Tsumaki residence. Norihiro himself awaited us in the courtyard and greeted us with great cheer.

“Akechi Mitsuhide-sama! Osamu-sama! I am delighted you could make it.”

He really was a good man, and I could not help but greet him as equally cheerfully.

“I had been thinking of paying you a visit all winter. It is only now that we have been able to spare the time,” I replied to him.

_He looks ever so pleased that we accepted his invitation,_ I thought, finally pushing away some doubts and worries and replacing them with positivity. It was always nice to see when someone was happy to see you.

I dismounted Mana as Mitsuhide dismounted Riku and took the reins of both horses to give to the stable master waiting close by.

“It was an honour to receive your invitation, Tsumaki-sama,” Mitsuhide greeted with a bow.

“The honour is mine. Now please, both of you must come in for some tea,” Norihiro said, beckoning.

Therefore both of us entered the residence, leaving our sandals by the veranda.

“I trust you had a good winter?” Mitsuhide enquired as we walked along the corridor. It was much quieter compared to a castle. Understandably given the size differences. It was nice, because here I could hear the birds better, even from within the walls, as opposed to the sounds of servants and maids bustling about to keep a castle in shape.

“A rather uneventful one, therefore the same as many previous winters. Yourselves? I understand Yamagishi-sama and his noble daughter stayed with you this winter?”

“They did. It had been a while since we had last seen my mother’s family, and therefore we invited them to stay with us,” Mitsuhide said.

“Indeed family are extremely important,” Norihiro agreed. “I have also kept mine close this winter.” We came to a stop in front of some screens where the natural light was bright on the other side. “You must forgive my wife’s absence. This winter gone has been harsh on her health, therefore she is resting in selcusion.”

Mitsuhide nodded in understanding, glancing at me briefly. “This winter has been harsh on quite a few individuals.”

I knew what he meant, as a reminder of my own illness. Mine however, had been self-inflicted. I doubted Lady Tsumaki had been as foolish. Given the delicate disposition of Hiroko however, it was likely inherited from the mother. There had been nothing in my research during my teens about Hiroko’s mother, and so this was now all guess work and intuition.

“Do not worry. We will not take offence over your wife’s absence,” Mitsuhide said reassuringly. “If we had known we could have brought some medicines and remedies to aid her health. Alas, all we can do for now is send her our well wishes. But rest assured, as soon as I return to my castle, I shall have someone send our family remedies. They helped Osamu’s own recovery.”

Norihiro’s eyebrows rose. “Osamu-sama had been unwell during the cold weather?”

I bowed my head. “Sadly, yes. This winter decided my luck had run out, it seemed. Nevertheless, the Akechi family remedies worked extremely well. I would certainly recommend them for your wife.”

“Then I shall take them with gratitude over such kindness.” Norihiro then slid open the screen, revealing a viewing room which was open to a garden, where a single cherry blossom tree in the middle was still in bloom over a pond. It must have been a late bloomer, as most of the blossoms in this region had finished flowering a week or two ago.

Cushions had been laid out for the three of us to sit. A fourth person was already in the room, making tea.

She glanced up, and I recognised her instantly. She had grown a bit more since I last saw her, having filled out a bit more into shape. She was still very thin though, and her skin was dusted with make-up. It made her look very attractive, but not in the obvious sense. Hers was a more gentle and subtle beauty if one knew how to look.

As soon as she glanced up at both Mitsuhide and I, she quickly brought her gaze back down, her cheeks flushing and her posture shrinking in nervousness and she bowed, touching her brow to the tatami.

“You remember my eldest daughter, Hiroko,” Norihiro said when we were seated.

“Of course,” Mitsuhide said. “How could we forget?”

“Please, daughter. You may sit up now,” Norihiro said, giving her permission to rise again. She kept her eyes downcast, clearly nervous.

“I am honoured the Akechi Lord and Lady remember me,” she replied, her words wavering in the beginning. I had a moment of being reminded of my best friend in England. She too was of such a nervous and anxious disposition. I had been one of the few people she trusted. Everyone else had the tendency to stab her in the back.

I was overcome by a sense of sympathy and empathy for Hiroko. Her anxiety was perhaps due to the scars on her face. Records had definitely made that mark clear. It was perhaps something I could relate to, given my own scars, even though mine were from acne and hers from smallpox.

“You have grown since we last saw you, Hiroko-hime,” Mitsuhide noted.

Hiroko glanced at him tentatively.

“You have both grown over the last year, to be honest,” I decided to speak, my tone light, but focused more on Hiroko to hopefully make her feel more at ease. “You have grown into quite a fine young woman, Hiroko-hime. You must be pleased, Tsumaki-sama, to have such a fine daughter.”

“Aha, indeed I am,” Norihiro agreed. “And she is very skilled as well in all that a noble woman should know and study.”

As if it were a silent instruction, Hiroko returned to whisking the tea powder. And whether it was intended or not, I felt a hint at something else.

Hiroko may not be a beauty like Chigusa, but Hiroko was gentle, and therefore submissive, which made an ideal wife. And a wife of noble heritage would also have to be knowledgeable in the tea ceremony, poetry and literature, calligraphy and sewing.

This visit I had Seen when the message was received at Inabayama Castle, and I knew Norihiro would ask Mitsuhide during this visit if he would take Hiroko as his wife.

However, I had not Seen the answer. My body turned chilly and my abdomen clenched. Regardless of how, the question would be asked during this visit, and much of the future hinged on Mitsuhide’s answer. I knew what the answer should be, yet unlike last year, where I was filled with giddiness at the prospect, I was now filled with dread. Because Mitsuhide marrying anyone would take him away from our friendship, and while I would still serve, our relationship would not be the same.

It was a selfish thought, and I despised myself for thinking something so selfish and immature. No matter how much my mind tried to beat it into submission however, the pit remained.

Mitsuhide and Norihiro were talking between them, which left me to reign in my control. I tried to focus on the positives. The Tsumakis were a noble family, similarly ranked to the Akechi (in the human sense of course), therefore it would be a reasonable alliance. Norihiro himself was a decent and honourable man, and Hiroko was a gentle girl whom I had also interacted with enough to become some form of friends with. There was very little chance of having any problems.

It was an ideal match.

Hiroko finished whisking the tea and the bitter matcha was passed around. It was a pure brew, of which Mitsuhide commented on, earning a slight flush to Hiroko’s face. I glanced at Norihiro, noting his subtle smile as he watched the two of them.

Upon noticing Norihiro’s expression, it reaffirmed my prediction. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, and expelling it out slowly and silently. What I had read in history may have all been correct, except certain dates and figures may have been confused and muddled as the centuries passed. The future was still set in stone however.

Or so it appeared.

Mitsuhide and Norihiro led the conversation for that portion of the afternoon. I chipped in more than I expected, and Hiroko spoke when spoken to, demonstrating the perfect kind of behaviour one would expect from a woman of noble upbringing – disciplined, and knowing her place in front of those who were her senior.

When the tea was finished, Norihiro took us on a tour around the residence. Beautiful grounds they were, for they were quaint, and it somehow matched the family so accurately. I felt a great deal of guilt upon my reluctance of the marriage proposal prospect. This family really was the perfect kind to unite with the Akechi, and Hiroko herself would be a perfect match for Mitsuhide. It was something I had accepted right at the beginning from when I first started my research into Mitsuhide as a teenager myself. And it was something I was going to have to accept now.

Some young voices caught my attention, and I glanced back towards the residence, to find two young girls trying to steal a peak through a slit in the screen they had opened. They looked twelve and nine, sisters. Hiroko also noticed, and she inhaled sharply. The three of them were sisters, and to see the two youngers behaving excitedly was an embarrassment to Hiroko, and would be to Norihiro, when he noticed.

However, seeing their curious faces desperate to take a look at the visitors, I could not help but smile and wave in return. It was nice to see children behave like curious children, especially when they were quite happy to also make eye-contact with me without running away. Made me feel somewhat normal again.

The two girls blushed and their eyes widened, giggling. They did not realise they had nudged the screen wider and took a near tumble out onto the veranda, tripping over one another.

The sound of the tumble finally drew Norihiro’s attention and he scowled. “What are you two doing?” he snapped as the two girls scrambled back inside, slamming the screen shut.

“Forgive them and myself, Akechi-sama, Osamu-sama. I have not disciplined them well enough,” Norihiro apologised, bowing his head.

“It is all well,” I said soothingly. “It was probably my fault. I smiled and waved at them from a distance. Do not be too harsh on them, Tsumaki-sama. Perhaps, if Hiroko-hime could do me the honour of introducing me to your sisters? We could allow the men to talk between them.”

I glanced at Mitsuhide, who’s expression had softened and nodded slightly in agreement. Norihiro debated internally for a moment, before he then agreed. Therefore Hiroko led me back into the residence, where I was then able to bond with the young woman without the restrictions and influence of men. I did like Hiroko. If she was to be the one for Mitsuhide, then I had to also ensure I was happy with her, otherwise I knew my coming days would be filled with nothing but misery, and jealousy, on both sides. On my side, the jealousy would be the fact that a wife would create a rift in the friendship between Mitsuhide and I. On her side, it would be the fact that Mitsuhide’s most common company, besides the wife, would be me as his retainer, and it would not go unnoticed that I was a woman who would most likely still be spending more time with him than others, purely due to the nature of my post.

Therefore if I could develop the friendship between Hiroko and I further, it would make both of our lives infinitely easier in the future.

* * * * *

After the evening meal had been cleaned away, Mitsuhide and Norihiro sat next to each other, sipping sake. The sunlight was waning as it set over the horizon. There was still light however, and Aki, Hiroko, and the two younger sisters, Junko and Kaiya, were out at the far end of the garden, still dressed in their formal attire.

Hiroko was trying to show Aki something while Junko and Kaiya dashed around the two of them, laughing as they played and simultaneously fought for Aki’s attention. It was refreshing, reminding Mitsuhide of when Aki often played with the children and youth of the town. She always had interesting games for them to experiment with.

“I must confess, Mitsuhide-sama,” Norihiro began. “I did not expect my girls to get along so well with Osamu-sama. I have never seen them so lively and charmed. You have a very unique retainer.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “Osamu is certainly not what you would expect. She is quite odd indeed.”

Norihiro grunted awkwardly, not wanting to voice any agreement in case he caused offence by saying Aki was indeed odd. “Nevertheless,” he said, “I am glad Osamu-sama is able to entertain them. I have not seen the three of them this lively for a long time. With my wife’s disposition, she is rarely able to spend time with all three of them together.”

Mitsuhide watched them. “I am sorry for your wife’s health. However, it appears that all three of your daughters have her bearing. I see a goodness in all three of them, particularly your eldest, as is expected of the eldest daughter or son of a family.”

Norihiro sighed. “Alas, we have not been fortunate enough to bear a son, which puts the success and future of my family into a somewhat problematic situation. Mitsuhide-sama, what do you think of Hiroko?”

For the entirety of the day, Mitsuhide’s visit to the Tsumaki residence had been extremely welcoming. There were some parts where Mitsuhide thought he picked up on something unusual, but had dismissed it as nothing, hoping it was not what he had predicted last night. Much of Norihiro’s conversation, or attention, had been focused on Hiroko, upon praising her good nature, her submissiveness and ability to perform as a noblewoman from her tea ceremony, ability to sew and cook, paint and read.

He did wonder why Aki had been strangely distant from him today. They often said women were always quicker at picking up these things. Because now, he also caught on to the sudden possibility Norihiro may make an offer of marriage. Mitsuhide and Hiroko were of similar ages. They both had good temperaments, and given previous family history, the Tsumaki had served the Toki as the Akechi did.

Mitsuhide turned his attention to Hiroko. A plain and scarred face she possessed, but it was transformed into something Mitsuhide did consider beautiful as her expression was soft with the gentleness at heart.

“_A kind elderly woman once told me this. She said that sometimes it doesn’t matter how someone looks. If their heart is beautiful, then they will always look beautiful, regardless of their physical appearance.”_

Aki’s words echoed in his memory,  and they were true. And in that sense, Hiroko had a beauty which could match Chigusa herself.

However, Mitsuhide felt nothing for either Chigusa nor Hiroko. 

“_Fate determines one partner to the soul for eternity. Some come sooner than others, and some came later than others. But we are all promised that one special person. And you will know it in here, when you meet that person.”_

Those were Aki’s words to Chigusa.

“Hiroko-hime is indeed kind and gentle, and the beauty of her heart shows clearly. She has not changed between our first meeting last year, and this one this evening, aside from having matured physically,” Mitsuhide praised. 

He felt a swell of relief from within Norihiro, but the sudden increased heartbeat indicated a moment of nervousness and tension which was not visible on the outside.

“Mitsuhide-sama, I have a request. Would you consider taking my eldest as your wife? Without sons, I must place my hopes in a good union for my daughters. I understand that Hiroko may not be the most physically beautiful woman available, and I am willing to offer you one of my other daughters when they become of age. You are a good man, Mitsuhide-sama, and I would be honoured if you will accept.”

Although Mitsuhide did not show it, his abdomen clenched with sudden panic, and ironically, the first thing he thought of, was how Aki must have felt when Chigusa had confessed her feelings. In the same way Aki had answered with stunned silence, so did Mitsuhide. 

He looked to her, trying to think of how she had handled the situation so he may do the same. Aki was speaking to Hiroko and explaining something to her, and Hiroko listened intently. Meanwhile, the two younger sisters tugged on Aki’s kimono for her attention, arguing between them over who would be able to show her first the perfectly round pebbles they had found upon Aki’s request for a game she was going to teach them. 

Aki was struggling to divide her attention, and Hiroko began to look annoyed over her sisters’ impatience. In an attempt to advert a three-sister argument, Aki quickly turned her attention to the two younger daughters, collected their pebbles with a compliment of great enthusiasm, and told them to now find some stray twigs. Junko and Kaiya ran off, allowing Aki to breathe again, and carry on with whatever she was talking about to Hiroko, who also now looked much happier. 

Watching Aki make that sigh, it reminded Mitsuhide to breath e . It allowed him to think, and made him realise there was no need to panic, because either way, he could not marry Hiroko. He was Oni. The Tsumaki were mortal humans. Such a union was impossible purely due to blood and family alone. Especially for his family, they would never allow him to marry a mortal human, even if that human was the daughter of the Shogun himself. There was no connection between their worlds. 

But how could he tell Norihiro that? There was already the expectation Mitsuhide would marry a Pureblood. It was what had been  anticipated upon his birth.

Mitsuhide realised that was the answer. He just hoped he could say it in a way to not cause the head of the Tsumaki family any offence. 

Therefore Mitsuhide turned to face Norihiro and bowed low, touching his brow to the tatami in respect. 

“I thank you for your most generous offer, Norihiro-sama. Hiroko-hime is an ideal wife for the most noblest of men,” Mitsuhide said carefully. “However, I am already destined to a match decided by my family upon my birth.”

There was a moment of silence. “You are already betrothed?” Norihiro asked, astonished. Mitsuhide hid his cringe and remained bowed. 

“I am.” It was not entirely the truth, but it was also not a complete lie. “My family are very private and we do not speak of it outside the household.”

“But you are seventeen. You must have received many offers from beyond your castle walls, for society does not know of this union.”

“On the contrary, this is in fact the first offer I have been given.” Now that Mitsuhide thought about it, it was indeed odd how he had not received any offers from outside. Mitsuhide licked his lips to continue. “I apologise for my family’s discretion, my Lord. However,” Mitsuhide sat back up. “I know of noble families like my own whom would benefit as greatly as you shall from a union between their houses and yours. Please allow me to make amends by arranging these. I assure you, your daughters will have the most ideal husbands.” Mitsuhide bowed down again, and remained there as the silence stretched on. He listened to the sound Norihiro’s breathing and heartbeat. They were agitated, surprised and struggling to understand what had happened. Meanwhile the rest of the residence carried on blissfully normally, and the four women and girls outside interacted between them. 

“Yes, ok good. Now you gently throw you pebble into the ring, and see if you can knock out mine. No, not like – oh! You got it!” Aki exclaimed.

“I did it! I knocked it out!” Kaiya squealed in delight 

“That’s not fair!” Junko groaned in misery, and Hiroko hummed in thought.

Mitsuhide focused on Aki’s voice. It helped calm him. If she was fine, then all was well, even if he himself was dealing with a very unusual scenario at the present time. 

Norihiro grunted. “You may sit up, Mitsuhide-sama.”

Mitsuhide did so. “Does Norihiro- sama require more time to consider my proposal?”

Norihiro shook his head. “While I am disappointed you have refused my offer, I am pleased that you will help my daughters find matches in the near future. I trust you will hold to your word?” The last utterance was not really a question, judging from its firm tone. Norihiro was well justified in it, for a young man old enough to be his son had just refused him an offer of marriage.

Nevertheless, Mitsuhide replied just as firmly. “You have my word, Norihiro-sama.”

Norihiro exhaled heavily and poured some more sake for both Mitsuhide and himself. “I will admit, you would have made an ideal son-in-law. However, I trust your judgement, as do so many others. Therefore if you are able to find husbands for all three of my daughters, then I shall be a very happy father indeed. So let us drink. I may not have achieved what I initially wanted, but I have gained something equally advantageous. To my daughters’ marriages.”

The two raised their glasses and dr a nk their fill,  and their conversation returned to more mundane topics. As they talked and drank, Mitsuhide’s eyes continued to be drawn back to the four in the garden. A servant had brought them lamps as the sun’s light weakened further over the trees and the chill began to return to the air, yet the four girls seemed completely unaware. They were enjoying themselves. There, the three sisters were just children again, and looked to Aki as a female figure  like a motherly older sister they never had, but had discovered they probably should have had.

_Aki will make a good mother one day,_ Mitsuhide found himself thinking. 

It would be impossible however. For as long as she served Mitsuhide, she could never be allowed to marry. Even if she did marry, any man here would be unsuitable for her, for she was a samurai, yet also of a different world and upbringing, possessing knowledge that baffled even the few Purebloods who came into contact her, with abilities of her own which made her as supernatural as Mitsuhide’s own kind. Even her appearance had frozen in age. Whether she was immortal or not, none could tell for now. But certainly appeared it. 

As he thought about it, w ith all of these factors combined, the best possible match for Aki would be Mitsuhide himself.  Even Ichirou had picked up on that last part before he started choking.

And so he came to a realisation, of which the surprising thing was that it was not surprising at all, in the end. Because it all made sense,  and most of all, as Aki had said, he felt it – in his heart . 

Nothing had ever before been so certain in his life.

_I think . . ._ _I want to take Aki as my wife,_ Mitsuhide resolved.


End file.
